A Midnight Marathon
by fictitiousburn
Summary: The firebender, the waterbender, and all the ways that they please each other (Zuko/Katara) (31 Days of Smut; Zutara Month 2012)
1. Relief

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Katara is going to go completely raving mad. She doesn't remember why she has agreed to this in the first place as she lays on her back, stripped completely naked, while the too smug firebender sits gently on her thighs, his feet shifting the majority of his weight away. He is just a firm, solid presence against her legs.

"Zuko, please," she begs as he traces a pattern across her collarbone with his fingers. His hands roam down her breasts, paying minute attention to rake across her nipples, and then his fingernails are drawing across her stomach. Her body is trembling and she wants to reach to him, pull him close and kiss him, but he's made the rules very clear. Her hands go up and nearly swat at his face.

He leans back with a smirk. "No touching," he says, and goes back to work. His hands feel warmer than they should as he slides back across her legs to better caress her thighs. His rough palms brush her thighs over and over, his fingers slipping in between her legs and not touching her. She fidgets—a mistake as his knuckles brush the seeping wet sensation between her legs.

The loud moan of desire and frustration that she lets out only seems to make him more eager to drag this out for as long as he can. He sits up, crawling towards her on his knees and kisses her lightly. On her forehead, on her nose, in the corners of her lips. He kisses down the side of her jaw and dips his tongue into her collarbone. He kisses between her breasts and down her stomach and then shifts back so he can kiss her thighs.

And then he's sticking his tongue out petulantly, like a teasing child, and he is teasing her because he is _so close_ to where she wants him to be. But of course, he sits there, nipping at her thighs and blatantly refusing to touch her. She growls his name out and is pleased to see him shiver, but he only smirks and leans in to kiss her.

It starts off as a normal, gentle kiss. But it deepens quickly and his tongue is probing her mouth, wet and warm. This is practice, Katara thinks, for what he'll do when he stops withholding what she knows he wants to do. He flicks his tongue lazily in her mouth and she groans gently, fisting her hands in the sheets. There is no way she can go on with not touching him, but there is no way in hell that she'll touch him—because then he'll stop. His hands cup her face gently and then he leans back suddenly, grinning at the breathless look on her face as it quickly morphs into frustration.

When Zuko finally relents—letting his tongue go to work between her legs, his fingers pumping in and out of her steadily, and rubbing his thumb against her slick opening—Katara is relieved.

* * *

**notes:** yeah, that's right. i'm doing smut for the entire 31 days of zutara month. jesus, help me.


	2. Luminous

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Zuko can never lay in bed beside Katara without saying, "I love you." There are a large handful of reasons why.

Sometimes when he comes in after a lengthy, frustrating meeting with his council, she's waiting for him curled up in his bed. It isn't until he removes the testy outer layers of his Fire Lord regalia and climbs into the bed, exhausted and ready to sleep, that he realizes she's completely naked under the covers. When she turns to him, tangling her own hair around herself, she's grinning coyly. "I love you," he rolls onto her.

When he wakes up before the sun rises, he props his head up with his palm and watches his wife sleep. Her nose is crinkled as if she's thinking about something in her dreams and her hands are tucked underneath her face, puffing her cheek out against the satin pillow covers. Her knees are curled up to her chest and he watches it rise and fall with steady breathing. And then the sun breaks the seal over the horizon and as the glow rises in the sky, it settles through their window and over their bed, and Zuko is breathless for a moment. His wife, the waterbender, is wreathed in sunlight and is as luminescent and glowing like his own inner fire. "I love you," he whispers aloud.

They're not in bed, but that's why he loves her. They probably shouldn't be like this in the throne room. Katara has iced the doors shut and he has no qualms about anyone who should happen to need him as she spreads her legs over his lap, her hands in his hair and tracing the fiery edges of his headpiece. _She_ needs him. "Leave it on," she says as she reaches towards the hem of his pants and wiggles them down, leaving no fabric between himself and the throne, "leave it _all _on." The wall of fire separates them from everything else and casts shadows over her body, almost like a glowing silhouette in his lap. She pushes herself up for a moment and settles herself carefully so that he is poised right at her entrance, and he smirks as he leans in to nip at her neck. "I love you," and then he buries himself to the hilt inside of her.

The week after Katara gives birth to their first child, she stays in bed. No amount of convincing moves her, until Zuko brings the gurgling baby girl to rest in the middle of their bed. He lays beside her, nudging her gently. "Mommy," he coos playfully, "if you don't get out of bed, I'll be a firebender." She practically dives out of the bed and Zuko laughs, throwing his head back against the pillows and watching her scramble to get dressed. "We're going to the pond to be around the _water_." She takes the infant and scowls at him. "I love you," he laughs and squints into the sunlight as they walk away.

* * *

**notes:** it should be okay, i didn't really want to use the word 'luminous' but there are several light sources and i threw in 'luminescent' so it didn't fall too far off track.


	3. Potential

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

The steam was rising off of the water as Zuko sits in the bath, raising the temperature of the water around him with his own internal heat. His arms stretch out along the rim of the porcelain wash basin, his hair is loose and thick around his neck, and his clothing is discarded neatly in one corner. He tips his head back and closes his eyes with a sigh, sinking as deep as he could into the water. It had been a hectic week, between back to back diplomacy hearings, making sure Katara was okay with their daughter, and the fact that earlier that week, someone had brought a dagger into the Royal Spa and tried to kill him (really, couldn't a man have a peaceful hair washing without having to literally defend himself?) so it wasn't unheard of that he simply wanted to soak and relax.

So it wasn't at all odd that when the door opens , he doesn't hear it. But he does hear the sloshing of water and sits up so quickly that he nearly topples his nude wife out of the basin. Reflexively, he reaches to catch her after he realizes who has intruded, and after her wide blue eyes refocus, she settles across his lap.

"You really need to relax," she threads her fingers through his damp hair, "you'll kill yourself before anyone gets a chance to try again." Her joke results in a playful push and a scowl, both of which cause her to smile.

"C'mon, Zuko. Don't be that way," she leans against him, wriggling in his lap before he grabs her arms.

"Don't do that."

"This?" She flicks her hips forward; he groans and drops his head against the basin.

"Uh huh. That."

Katara certainly doesn't listen and starts a slow, steady grind of her hips over his, leaning over to nip at his neck as his head is craned back. The noises he emits only drives her further to kiss the pale expanse of his neck and continue her rhythmic grinding, water cresting against the edge of the tub.

Zuko's grip on her arms tightens and she feels a surge of his warmth through her body before he sits up and suddenly shifts the torque of her movements. She is angled back, almost lying across the length of the tub, and even in the water, his fingers find her. Everything is wet so there's no noticeable difference, but she clenches around his two fingers and he smirks, mimicking her previously rhythmic grinds with his palm rolling underneath her. She digs her fingers into his shoulders, throwing her head back, and he leans forward to kiss her breastbone, nuzzling his face comfortably there.

"Zuko," she starts in an airy whisper, her hands moving to clench his hair.

She stops moving against him with wide eyes as she hears the sound of a baby wailing. Gold eyes meet blue and she sighs, pulling away from him with a frown.

"Almost," she laments.

* * *

**notes:** silly newborns, cockblocking the parental!zutara. i should also say that all of these drabbles are in the same universe too.


	4. Change

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

"I changed her last time," Katara sits up and glares at her husband, her arms crossed over her chest.

"No," Zuko rolls away from her in a sleepy daze, "I did. How could you have already forgotten the huge argument we had _last_ time? I hate changing diapers."

"I hate changing them too, but it's not my turn! Get up." She starts to push at him and doesn't hear the low growling that signifies he's just about reached his limits. Katara is surprised when her wrists are clutched tightly in his grip and he has her pushed onto her back.

"Stop shoving at me," he snaps.

The brunette stares up at him and then starts to smile. "Yes, Fire Lord." He watches her and then gives up trying to decipher her facial expressions. He rolls back onto his side but instead of getting up, Katara presses herself to his back. He lets out a sigh.

"I really don't want to change her diaper." She snakes her arms around his waist.

"That's unfortunate."

"Zuko, can you do it?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

Her hands lift his tunic and she feels his muscles under her hands. She pulls him close and nuzzles her face against his back. "Pretty please with a moon peach on the side?"

"Not a chance."

Her hands drift from under his tunic and towards the hem of his pants. "Pretty please with a moon peach on the side and a _handful_ of fire gummies?" She punctuates her handful by grabbing the length of him firmly. The fact that he has completely stiffened only makes her grin.

"Uh…"

"Pretty please," she breathes, sliding her hands over the soft flesh, withdrawing a hand to pinch the water out of the air and return to stroking him with assistance. "Pretty, pretty please with a moon peach on the side and a handful of fire gummies?" This time, she squeezes him gently and he lets out a groan.

"What?" She asks, pausing, but he is stubbornly silent. She continues, moving quickly, her hands jerking him with a renewed vitality. Her fingers slide over the sensitive tip and he completely throws his head back, letting out a guttural cry. She feels him starting to thrust into her hands and she grins happily as he rolls onto his back.

She pauses to shift so she's sitting on his legs, slightly erect member freed from the hem of his pants. She goes back to her steady movements, listening to his gentle encouragement and erratic breathing. She hears whispers of her name on his lips and resists puffing her chest with pride. She lowers her own lips to him and she feels his body tense, but she only lets her tongue touch the tip of him before she backs away, sitting on her heels.

"Pretty please?"

"Fine."

Katara grins as he reluctantly fixes himself and slides out of the bed to check on the baby. "Huh," she calls triumphantly, "I wonder what made you change your mind."


	5. Serenade

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

"There are certain times of the day when it's best, as a Royal Guardsman, to be absent from the post at Fire Lord's chambers."

A voice interrupts. "But that's a breach of protocol—"

"Just hear me out before you report me, okay? It's like clockwork."

A pause. "Fine."

"If the Fire Lord is in a particularly nasty mood, I suggest you wait five minutes. Then you'll know."

"How will I know—"

"You'll know. If the Fire Lord is in a particularly _happy_ mood, hightail it. If the baby is crying when you start your post and stops crying during your post, get lost. If the Fire Lady starts giggling…_run_."

"I don't understand—"

"If the baby requires a diaper change or a bath, cover your ears. If it's silent and then the door opens, cover your _eyes_. If it sounds like they're fighting, just leave."

A beat. "So, why is it okay for me to leave my post when this shit happens?"

"Because you really don't want to hear the soundtrack."

"I'm confused."

"Listen, you're new. I'm trying to cut you a break, but you're going to have to learn for yourself. Now go, your post starts in a few minutes. Agni help us all."

The confused guardsman turns and heads towards the Fire Lord's chambers. Before he gets there, he can hear the sounds of their daughter wailing and the couple arguing over something. The words are dull but it isn't his job to listen, so he simply stands still and stays in place. The crying goes on incessantly and he remembers the advice he had been given about crying and fighting, but what's the worst that could happen by sticking around and doing his job? And what the hell did he mean by a soundtrack?

He couldn't help but slump in relief the second the baby stopped crying. He closes his eyes briefly before standing at attention on his post.

The soundtrack begins.

He hears giggling and things falling over in the room but nothing has happened yet, and the confusion wears away when he hears creaking, silence, and then a loud, reverberating moan. His eyes widen but he's rooted to his spot, listening. The moaning continues, singing through the walls and he cringes, trying to drown it out. It can't possibly go on for that long, can it?

But it does. He finds himself almost ten minutes to the end of the shift with his ears ringing full of unnecessary sounds. Eventually, it quiets down, and the door opens. As he turns to customarily bow to the Fire Lord (or Fire Lady), he's met with a partially dressed waterbender sloshing what appears to be wine through the air. A shirtless firebender follows, tugging her back in the room without a second glance.

Dazed, he wanders back towards the tower.

"So, a beautiful serenade?"

"A soundtrack wherein they create the Fire Nation heirs," the guard groans and bangs his head on the table, "just my luck."

* * *

**notes:** i always feel weird forcing myself to use a prompt word, but i just wanted the point to come across that listening to zuko and katara sex it up is like music to the royal guards' ears~ finally all caught up!


	6. Desired

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

"Every part of me wants every part of you."

Zuko always says this to her on their wedding anniversary because, to Katara, it was the reason she realized that she was hopelessly in love with the Avatar and even he had been unable to stir the kinds of emotions that Zuko managed to entice out of her.

A thin sheen of perspiration coats them both as they hold each other close. Their ragged breaths overlap each other as their foreheads press against one other, tangled together in a heap of limbs. Her tanned arms are slung over his shoulders, fingers dancing across the protruding muscles in his back as his pale arms are wrapped around her waist, carefully guiding her hips towards his. They meet in the epicenter of their passion, slowly grinding against one another. He always teases that they do it slowly on their wedding anniversary, but Katara can never bear to go any faster. She wants to feel every part of him that he has to offer, the voracious and unsettled hunger of their desire weaving its way between their closely huddled bodies.

This sort of voracious desire settles itself in the strangest and most unreachable of places. The darkest corners of his heart confessing that he had tried not to be, but was in love with her anyway. The infinite stretch of her mind that tells her she loves Aang more, but craves Zuko in limitless amounts. The tearoom in his uncle's shop where he first tells her that he wants all of her; to be in seamless and flawless sequence with her entire being. The carved rocking chair in their daughter's nursery that creates a pulling sensation so deep that it practically pulls her into a void. And currently, the pinnacle of her pleasure where he probes and thrusts himself, threatening to break it open and spill everything inside.

They move like a waterfall cascading over smooth rocks, filling in every crevice and every crack. Zuko thrusts into her slowly, languidly, like he is trying to savor every flicker of friction between them. Katara's muscles clench around him like she is trying to keep him steady inside of her and around her.

"Fuck," he hisses and she especially finds herself in tune with him as she lets out a hoarse moan.

"I love you, Zuko," she croaks feebly and he only presses his forehead closer to hers, like he is imagining her skin as velvety smooth chocolate to pour into the flawed parts of him so that they become a whole person. That is, after all, how Zuko imagines their daughter was made. A mold filled with equal parts of the two of them inside.

Even joined by their hipbones, their foreheads mashed together, their lips searching their mouths, Zuko's palms flatten against her back to arch her body closer to his and she wraps one of her legs around his waist and pulls tighter.

"Every part of me wants every part of you, too."

* * *

**notes:** i really tried to give up on the poetic aspect of this particular prompt, as i'm sure there will be plenty smut with a prompt like "desired" so i wanted to take it to a deeper level. i think i failed, but still. also, a **huge** thank you to all of my reviewers, followers, and favorites! it means a lot to me to have your feedback and your stats as well :)


	7. Pride

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Zuko never really stops to think about how proud he should be of his talents. He is a master firebender, as all Fire Lords are, but firebending has always brought upon negative feelings, and so, he casts that aside. He is a highly proficient swordsman, but having been raised to think that non-bending combat is inferior, he struggles to boast about this. He is well taught in many other skills associated with the Royal Court, but a large majority of them are for show and bore him.

Some of his talents, however, had _no_ place in the Royal Court.

Those were his favorite talents. He was proud of those.

"Right there," his wife moans, a wafting, sensual noise that barely reaches his ears. He is focused elsewhere, with her thighs on his shoulders and her hands gripping his lengthy, dark brown hair. His tongue is sliding over her evenly, with the precision and timing of a metronome, and her body is tense yet rippling with pleasure. Small, stifled noises escape her lips but he continues with his ministrations. He pushes a finger into her and without hesitation, adds another to the smooth, wet, pulsing muscles. They seize his fingers in a greedy, possessive grip and while he strokes the smooth wall of her sex with one finger, the other is curled and dragging lightly down the other side. He is mostly content with this, his fingers expertly tracing patterns inside of her, and her delightful moans in the air.

When he tires, feeling his fingers start to lock up and his wife's pleasure hitting a base line, he drops his head down to breathe a warmth of fire over her, watching the goosebumps spread across her body, before his tongue darts out to enter the fray again, moving from the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top down to the warm, throbbing entrance below. He grins when he hears her calling out his name but he doesn't stop. Instead, he goes faster. He lets his tongue take in the sensitive tip of flesh and sucks it gently, his fingers pushing inside of her, trying to trigger the ultimate tidal wave of actions.

After a few moments, it does. Katara's calves tense first, the muscles shifting against his bare shoulders. Her toes curl into his back, her fists tighten into his hair, her back arches and he can see the whites of her eyes as the blue irises flutter back into her head. For that moment, Zuko moves his head from between her thighs to catch the look on her face: lidded, sultry eyes, goosebumps across her arms, her legs, her breasts. Her body curved elegantly in the throes of pleasure, her hair sweaty and tangled and the way her body seemed to release everything over her in a wave that swept her away from the shore.

The fact that his lips are pursed with the taste of her and his fingers smell of her.

He is proud of this talent.

* * *

**notes:** just got back into town and have written this at the speed of light. i'm hoping that soon, i will have a chance to attempt to use different points of view in this story and still keep it full of smutty goodness. also, i appreciate any and all feedback! it'll be a long 25 days coming up so i'm sort of experimenting with smut (i haven't really written it too much and i'm trying to keep it tasteful, but still sexy) so let me know what you all think! **many thanks to my reviews, favorites, and followers (here and on tumblr!)** p.s. i find it difficult not to use the anatomical terms, even though i really don't like them much /awkward


	8. Prejudice

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Katara rarely cries in front of Zuko. So, when she storms into his office one afternoon sobbing uncontrollably, Zuko backhands an entire jar of inks and two carved statues from his desk, wincing as they shatter. He's on his feet and he pulls her into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her. After a moment, he pulls away and locks his door.

"Katara, what—"

"He yanked out my headpiece!" She sobs into her hands and Zuko's gaze darts to the top of her head where her crown is indeed missing. He balks for a moment before filling with rage.

"Who—!?"

"He yanked out my headpiece and said I didn't deserve it, that I didn't deserve _you_ because I would…" Katara takes a deep breath, shuddering through her tears, "I would never be anything more than a filthy, dirty p—"

"Just tell me who," Zuko growls, his fists curling and heating viciously.

"—peasant, just a royal consorting whor—"

"Katara." Zuko grips his wife's forearms and she jolts, her eyes looking at his pleadingly. They are shining and vulnerable, and her hands are still paused in front of her face. Zuko simply moves her into the corner of his office where he has a full mirror attached to an armoire. He stands behind her and gazes at her reflection thoughtfully.

"You're beautiful, Katara." He reminds her, his hands wrapping around her waist and his face pressed into her hair. His fingers untie the sash in the middle of her robes and he pulls the red garments off so she is dressed in a tunic and her sarashi. She blushes.

"Look at you," his hands sift through her hair, over the front of her tunic, down to brush her wraps slowly. She quivers and leans back against him. "You are my _wife_," he reminds her, gently pushing her arms up and pulling the tunic over her head. He swears lightly when he sees he has gone without her upper bindings and his hands cover her breasts. He cups them gently, leaning to whisper into his ear.

"This ignorant imbecile has _no_ idea." He rolls her nipples between his fingers and she sighs, knees buckling, but Zuko catches her with one arm around her waist and the other under her thigh. He takes care to let that hand slide over her dark skin and meet at the apex of her thighs. She moans and tilts her head back. "Mhm," he encourages, "beautiful." He rubs her with each word. "Flawless. Perfect." He pulls her wraps gently aside but doesn't remove them and she squirms in his grip, crying out and practically knocking him back. He catches her with a little more effort.

"Zuko," she breathes, "don't."

Slightly alarmed, he raises an eyebrow. "I'm still in audience."

When he continues to gape, the tips of his fingers slightly twitching between her legs, she swats at him, adjusting her wraps. "I froze him to the wall."

Zuko smirks. "You _are_ my wife."

* * *

**notes:** it was really, really hard to come up with this, just fyi. it would have been easier to write a sort of hate!sex sort of thing but i'm writing in happy zutara universe (cue denial) so i finally, _finally_ came up with the idea. i'm surprised that there was never anything about race in a:tla (and how they race swapped in the last airbender movie _never watch it ever_) and just about bending and types of government. all the tribesmen are considerably darker than people of other nations, which hardly makes sense since they're in the poles? you'd think the fire nation would have the tan people. SHUTTING UP NOW. time to start shifting point of views, starting...now!


	9. Sublime

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

It has been a long time since a subtle ache has tugged at Aang's heart, but when he steps into the Fire Nation Royal Palace, there seems to be a heavy stone swinging from the strings of his heart. Each step is heavier and heavier as he approaches the throne room. He knows he shouldn't feel this way because Zuko and Katara are beloved friends of his; he has known about their love and had even relinquished Katara to pursue it. It had hurt but he was the Avatar; giving up things for the greater good was in his description, and Guru Pathik hadn't been lying when he said he needed to give up his attachments. He hadn't imagined he would be handing her directly to another man, but he had done it.

He gingerly pushes the throne room door open with a creak and is startled to see the Fire Lord and Fire Lady engaged in battle. He slips in and stands behind a pillar to watch.

Katara is graceful, elegant and fluid like the water she wields. Zuko is fierce, with just a touch of aggressiveness that is tempered with passion. There is nothing vicious about their sparring. Aang recoils when the Fire Lord calls up a massive flame. Katara's water quickly sweeps to douse it, but before it can, Aang notices something strange. The water tangles itself between the tendrils of fire, like threads weaving themselves together, and when they collide, steam rises. Katara and Zuko are both surging, pouring their elements into the fray. Aang watches the ebb and flow of fire and water, simultaneously consuming one another and pulsing with life, given from the other element. He can't help but think that it's beautiful in a destructively sad and solemn way. It reminds him that their love ebbs and flows, simultaneously consuming them and giving them life.

He's never seen Katara any happier than this, after all.

The fire dissipates completely and the water is drawn back into its container. In the steam, Aang can make out the faint outlines of Zuko and Katara. He can hear her tinkling laugh as Zuko kisses her and a delighted gasp when his hands pry into her robes. She doesn't stop to swat at him and instead starts to shrug the robe off. Now horrified, Aang is torn between announcing himself, trying not to get caught, or having to witness an extremely private moment. He tries squeezing his eyes closed but after dizzying himself, they open to see Zuko's face between Katara's legs and—what is he doing there, _oh Spirits no_—before he barely avoids spluttering. He stays long enough to see Katara sitting on her robes on the throne _naked_—Aang blushes an angry red—before he slips out of the door and shuts it carefully.

Laughing roughly, Zuko pauses with his lips hovering over hers. "I'd have loved to see his face, you know."

"Zuko!" She slaps him lightly, "that's cruel."

"Cruel, yes. But beautiful."

* * *

**notes:** going off of the definition that sublime is "so awe-inspiringly beautiful as to seem almost heavenly" so therefore synonymous with beautiful. it's meant to be aang's descriptor of zuko and katara's love and also zuko's satisfaction with the awkward peeping, haha. this isn't so much smut but hey, aang is a monk at heart, i doubt he'd suddenly develop a voyeur fetish. **let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into tomorrow's prompt :)**


	10. Affliction

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

A red faced Fire Lord knocks at the door. When it swings away, Iroh laughs jovially at the sight of him.

"Uncle," he starts, "I'm _so_ sorry—"

"Nonsense, my nephew," Iroh claps him on the shoulder and steers him into his room. "I know a thing or two about the robust passion of young love. I was quite the skilled lover in my day—"

"Uncle!"

"Zuko, it is not only my breath of fire that has given me the nickname of 'Dragon of the West,' you know. Have you seen a dragon's ton—"

"_Uncle_!" Zuko narrowly avoids screaming and subsequently sucks in a whole throat full of tea. It burns and he coughs for what feels like ages, Iroh thumping him on the back gently. He takes Zuko's forced silence from suffocating to continue his dialogue.

"I don't understand why you are apologizing in the first place, nephew. I'm sure Lady Katara would be highly opposed to you making apologies for her, ah, pleasure. After all, she is entitled." Iroh winks and Zuko's face blanches, sending him into another coughing fit.

"After all, my rapping on the wall was _encouragement_—"

"Uncle!" Zuko's voice is strained and hoarse from the assault of tea and coughing, but Iroh quirks an eyebrow to his nephew and deciphers the look of horror on his face. With a pleasantly satisfied grin, he helps his nephew rise to his feet and directs him back towards the door.

"Very well, nephew," Iroh pats him between his shoulder blades, "I believe I have regaled you—"

"—horrified me—"

"—with enough advice—"

"—unnecessary and repulsing theories—" Zuko shudders as he says this.

"—to be of use to your lady—"

"—I am of plenty use to Katara!" For a moment, Zuko forgets what he is admitting to, his arms folded across his chest, head tilted back arrogantly. Iroh gives him a knowing look and the temporary pride deflates into a look of terror again.

"Good night, nephew!" Iroh shuts the door behind Zuko and chuckles.

When Zuko returns to their room, Katara gives him a scorching look. "If you ever, _ever_ walk out on me in the middle of—" she gestures to the sheets pulled up to her neck and clothes strewn on the floor "—I will harm you in every imaginable way, Zuko, I _promise_—"

Zuko undresses hastily and climbs into bed with his wife, but he doesn't touch her. In fact, he tries to ignore the heat radiating from between her legs despite the fact that she is pressing herself against him again, lavishing him with kisses along his neck and down towards his shoulders. "You weren't done, you know," she reminds him playfully, moving his large hand between her legs. He yelps and backs away from her.

"What is _wrong_ with you?!" She demands.

Zuko stutters and blinks wildly. "…Uncle heard us."

"Oh." And Katara looks as horrified as he feels.

* * *

**notes:** another indirect definition of a prompt: "a condition of great physical or mental distress." iroh featured by request of **Densharr**, i hope i did him justice! several notes of **thanks** to the repeated reviews and opinions from **Kimberly T** and **Sakarya**! for those of you who actually answered my question about the race thing, thanks! i was half serious because it was almost white-washed out of the movie and i never understood how katara and sokka could masquerade around the fire nation without suspicion, since their complexion is vastly different. **let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into tomorrow's prompt :)**


	11. Intimacy

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Katara is standing in the pool when Zuko opens the door; her hair is damp and curled to cover her bare chest, a glittering look outlines her blue eyes, and there is a vibrant smile teasing her lips, as if she is aware of exactly how exquisitely beautiful she looks. Zuko tries to recover, but his jaw is slackened nonetheless.

Upon arriving in the South Pole, they ventured to the outskirts of the main village in seclusion to build an igloo. The day before, Zuko had melted a makeshift pool in the center of the room at his wife's request. It had been mostly for relaxation, but with his wife looking as gorgeous as the day he married her, it had taken on more intimate purposes.

Katara grins at him and her voice is sultry, "You're cold, aren't you?"

Zuko makes short work of undressing himself, throwing his clothes and shoes across the igloo with fervor. Katara only laughs at her husband, watching his muscled, pale form as he crosses the space of the igloo to step into the pool. He heats it with his bending and moves over to her with every intention of kissing the daylights out of her.

The intensity of his kiss causes her to moan and she wraps her arms around his neck as he backs her to the edge of the pool, his hands roaming over her possessively.

She smirks at him and leaps, tackling him as they sink beneath the surface of the water. Her hands find his rapidly stiffening member and he groans before his eyes widen and he drags himself to the surface. Laughing, Katara swims to him and plants a kiss on him while he is still gasping for air. Her hands stroke him gently in the water and he buries his face in her neck with a groan. She moves quickly, matching his pace for whenever he bites or nips at her neck to diffuse his arousal. When he's satisfied, she wraps her legs around his waist and kisses him deeply. Her tongue probes his mouth in ample amounts, his mouth muffling the moans she emits when she feels his hands along her hips and the sides of her breasts. She pulls away after a breathless moment and starts to push down on him, but his hands are at her waist, holding her still.

Katara looks at her husband curiously. "Are you okay?"

He smiles a smile with no trace of suggestiveness. "You're the most beautiful woman in the world," he presses his forehead against hers to stare at her, conveying the sincerity of his words, "and I'm married to you. You're in love with _me_. I'm more than okay." Katara can't help but blush.

He watches her for what feels like an hour, just familiarizing himself with her features. The way her face is elegantly thin when it used to be round and gentle, the length of her hair as it shyly covers parts of her that she only leaves bare to him, the bright peaks in her blue eyes and the darkened undertones that give the blue irises a surprising emotional depth. Most of the time, Zuko is tied up in trying to sleep with her before their daughter stirs or he is called off to work or someone is visiting him. But in that moment, she is just so startlingly beautiful that he feels he hasn't paid enough attention to just that fact. He should be grateful for the spaces of time where he can just look at her, dote upon her flawlessly natural appearance, and be grateful that he was blessed enough to marry her.

He traces from her hairline down to her jaw, leaning in to kiss her gently, and his hands brush against her neck and her collarbone. They slide behind her back to tangle in her hair and he draws a hand away to skim over her breasts, cupping them each before tracing his fingernails against her stomach. The muscles contract and she lets out a quiet gasp and then his hands fall where they are joined at her hips. He reaches to firmly grab her ass and she laughs; her cheeks are red as she leans her face against the crook of his neck.

"Katara!" The couple barely springs apart before the tribesman runs sprinting into their igloo. Katara stumbles a little, having her legs wrapped around Zuko and now trying to find footing in the pool while covering herself from her brother. Realizing they've been interrupted, Zuko places his hands on the surface of the water and heats it until steam rises to conceal their state of undress.

But neither of them are prepared for the following horror: Sokka slides on a patch of ice at the door in his haste and lands haphazardly in their impromptu hot spring, face first in the water between them. Katara screams and then Sokka screams, and all of a sudden the water is _really_ hot.

"Katara, Zuko, you're—ugh!"

"Sokka, _get out_!"

"You two are repulsive!"

"She's my wife!"

"You should have knocked!"

"You shouldn't have been—" The warrior shudders as he finally climbs out of the water, melodramatically dragging himself across the cold ice with his boomerang in one hand and a spearhead in the other.

He practically sprints to the main part of the village, frantically looking for his father. He drops down in the snow at Hakoda's feet, whining in agony. His father looks down at him. "Dad," Sokka laments as he lifts his head, "I've been through the most excruciating pain any man can ever go through in the course of his life."

Hakoda looks slightly amused, but manages to suppress it for the sake of his son's sanity. "They built their igloo away from prying eyes for a reason. You should respect your sister and her husband's right to intimacy, but most importantly, their privacy, Sokka."

The warrior drops his head against the ice with a thud.

* * *

**notes:** i started to make this 500 words like the rest of them but i felt like i really, really needed to extend it to convey the intimacy (and because i really wanted that element in it) so this is 1000 words. sokka featured by request of **LivinJgrl123**; i do really enjoy sokka as a character so much that he'll probably be in another one of these prompts in the near future. a million thank yous to my reviewers and the people following/favoriting this series! i truly adore all of you and hope everything is progressing well and that you like what you're reading. **let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into tomorrow's prompt :)**


	12. Mistake

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Someone that day made a vast mistake, but both Katara and Zuko were too busy to notice.

"Oh, Zuko," the brunette moans.

They were definitely too busy to notice.

Katara was lying on her back, her toes curling into the sheets as Zuko leans between her legs. Normally, he hushes her for being so loud but there are no guards on duty; there are no close friends or family guests staying nearby. His uncle is visiting, but he is being put up in a separate hall of the palace, and the Fire Lord relishes in this newfound privacy. He ducks his head down, angling his wrists so he can push her thighs further apart and allows his tongue to slide in between the wet folds. She lets out a combination of a moan and a whimper, his name freezing on her lips and creating a subtle buzzing sound in her mouth.

He tilts his head forward just slightly, his tongue sliding and the tip of his nose brushing the quivering apex of her thighs. "Please," she starts, hooking one of her legs around his neck and yanking; Zuko's eyes widen for a moment and he lets out an awkward splutter into the crevice of her thigh, but Katara's eyes are too lidded to notice his faltering, "please, please, please, Zuko!" He puts his lips against her entrance and pushes his tongue as far as it will reach. The noises she emits are causing part of Zuko to swell in pride and he moves a hand to hook a finger inside of her.

"Right here?" He teases, circling the moist entrance with a gentle smirk. Katara practically reaches down and grips his hand closer to her body. She sets her shoulders against the bed and raises her hips, moving them over his hand and gasping at the tremors it gives her. He takes her cue and slips a finger inside, a loud, shrieking moan meeting his ears as he presses his thumb against the sensitive nub, rubbing in circular motions. He pumps back and forth, rubbing the pad of his thumb against her as his other hand rests on her hip, feeling the muscles and bones undulate under her skin.

He pulls his hands free and Katara relaxes into the bed for a moment, her chest heaving and her eyes closed, but the blue irises spring open when she feels a throbbing, solid presence between her legs.

Suddenly, to his horror, he hears a thumping on the wall and hollering on the other side. His face pales as he freezes above his wife, suddenly aware of the only person who could sound like that. But, his mind stutters, he's not supposed to even _be_ there, in that room next to his. And if he was, that meant that he had heard...

Zuko practically leaps off of his wife and throws his clothes on hurriedly. He doesn't turn to look at his wife's confused and likely angry face. Instead, he tracks down a servant and asks about the room next to his. "Lord Iroh wished to be closer to you and Fire Lady Katara," he feels faint, "I didn't think you would mind such a request, my Lord."

Someone that day made a vast mistake, but now, Zuko wished he had noticed.

* * *

**notes:** back to a 500 (psyche this is 550) word format! the description of what iroh heard from chapter/prompt 10 was featured by request of **the-fire-lord-zuko** on tumblr. and the perfect excuse to get back into the deep smut aspect. hopefully there will be less interruptions for the pair. thanks again for those of you who take the time to share your opinions in a review and others who follow/favorite the story!**let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into tomorrow's prompt.**


	13. Festival

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Katara slid her arms from his shoulders down his chest and pressed her lips to his jaw, "Keep the mask on." Her voice is low in her throat and Zuko's gaze meets hers.

"Keep the dress on," she grins at the insistence in his voice, followed by a gentle laugh.

The cultural restoration of the Fire Nation is as equally important as the financial and moral restoration, Katara reminds him. That is the only reason that she pushes Zuko to reinvent the Fire Days Festival to be an educational spreading of culture of the Fire Nation in the other Nations. Rather than indoctrinating the people with propaganda, it celebrated the highs and lows of the Fire Nation's cultural and political decisions over the last century. Starting from the first coming of Sozin's Comet, it details the initially innocent yet superior opinion of the Fire Nation of wanting to spread their culture, to the devastation it caused, the technological advances that it brought upon, and finishing with the second coming of the comet where the Fire Nation both lost and won the war to change the tides of how the other Nations perceived them. Now, the Fire Days Festival, Zuko repeats at every one that he attends as the Fire Lord or whenever he is discovered, is an unpretentious way of spreading their culture in general acceptance of the cultures of the other Nations. It was humbling in the most important ways, and it gave the Royal Family time to appreciate the morphing of a previously damaging celebration.

The Fire Lady smirks as she moves, trailing her arms across Zuko's shoulders and sliding onto his lap. She reaches her thin fingers to trace the wide, gold illuminating eyeshadow of the mask, the gold just below the mask watching her intently. Zuko has taken a fond likeness to the orange, gold, and red painted mask with dramatically wide eyes and narrow eyeholes. As a mark of the festival, Katara has donned a blood red Fire Nation styled dress with a plunging neckline, the hem of the dress curling with the outline of a flame giving way to sheer material from the crevice of her thighs down. It was through pure observation and speculation that Zuko knew she had discarded all of her under wrappings, or just went without them completely.

The latter thought gives rise to a bulge in his lap.

Katara grins as she feels it, carefully stirring her hips over his. She presses a reverent kiss to the white painted forehead of the mask and feels Zuko's hands on her waist as he subtly flexes his hips up towards hers. She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth to chide at him, but still honors his subtle request by standing, the slit in her dress parting over her thighs as she unzips and removes his pants. She doesn't strip him entirely, but simply rolls the waistline of his trousers down to the backs of his knees. Katara scraps her nails against his thighs and he groans, his muscles tightening beneath her grip. Carefully, she takes the length of him into her hands, moving her smooth palms over the pulsing flesh before pressing it against the smooth muscle of her sex. She bites down on her bottom lip as she lowers herself but it does little to shield the moan that immediately comes out of her mouth. She sets her hands on his shoulders and moves up and down over him, tipping her head back and arching her spine. She feels the mask pressing against her neck and she selfishly removes her hands from his shoulders to tip the mask away from his lips so he can kiss her. She glides painfully slow over him, moving her hips in a circle while she uses her legs to bounce herself over his lap, careful to add just the right angle or extra bit of force so that they're both crying out against each other.

His lips bite her neck ferociously and his hands move to press against the curves of her back, pulling her body closer to his. She desperately wishes for skin to skin contact, but there is no way that she is going to stop with him thrusting into her and her pushing down on him, just for that small concession. Besides, she notices when she grinds herself against him in certain ways, it creates a delightful static between the fabric of her dress and the slow heat of her skin. She lets out another moan as she shifts in his lap and it doesn't take long until Zuko grabs her hips and pulls her down onto him rapidly, pushing himself out of the chair to meet her with surprise force. She whimpers and clutches at his dark hair, the sound of their skin colliding and noises muffled behind her lips the only thing in the air. And then she's shuddering in his lap, her limbs freezing and her muscles clenching. She feels dripping wet and her body is rolling with pleasure, and she wants to keep going but her legs are shaking and her fingers find it difficult to untangle from his hair. Zuko laughs, sliding her backwards so he can pull his pants up properly. He doesn't bother to button them and instead pulls her close, cradling her against him with his arms around her and his hands resting on the small of her back.

"This festival was an excellent idea," his voice is still heavy and thick in the air, mingling with the scent of their arousal from just moments before. Katara can only grin and press her lips against his before pushing his mask up to cover his hair and reveal his smugly satisfied face, anchored with bright, glowing golden eyes. She summons the energy to bury her face in his neck contently. After all, this is a cultural celebration, and there was no better way to celebrate it than a union like this.

* * *

**notes:** aaand i quickly descended back into 1000 words again. i might stick with it, but i am a little behind on my prompts because of real life, so we'll see. for those of you who asked/pmed me, you can find other things of mine or follow me at **xavalos** on tumblr (although i warn you that there are an even interspersing of photos as well as fiction). shout out to **JMetropolis** for the multiple reviews and the suggestions/feedback i have received from everyone else! i am definitely going to get around to all of them asap. **let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into the next prompt.**


	14. Stranger

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Zuko remembers going to sleep in his bed, alone. So when he wakes up with a figure poised over him in all black, he immediately goes into defensive mode. Or he tries to, before he realizes that his hands are cuffed above his head to the headboard with something that sears through him like metal when he attempts to burn himself free. His legs are restrained in a similar fashion and he starts to yell for help before he is silenced with a small hand. He catches the smell of fresh soap and perfume.

Well, at least his assailant is a fragrant female. He can think of worse ways to go.

Noticing this allows him to notice other things. The woman is sitting on him with her knees pressed on either side of his body and watching him intently. It's too dark for him to make anything out other than shadows and dim highlights from the moonlight shining in through his window. Having expected his wife to join him in the middle of the night, Zuko is shirtless and clad only in undergarments. Lying vulnerable underneath the body of a curvaceous female clad in thin, black spandex does nothing for keeping control over him. His assailant seems to notice this and grins at him. Her hands are gloved in a thin material to match the black attire and she leans down, pressing her palms flat against his chest. Zuko watches her hands trace the muscles over his collarbone and his chest down to his abdomen while squirming helplessly under the foreign but welcome touch. It remains innocent enough until his blankets are drawn away and he is practically bare in front of her.

Her fingers trace the outline delicately and he lets out a quiet hiss despite the simplicity of the moves. She continues, her fingers scraping across the tip through the fabric, and down to the base. She presses her palm against the base and starts to massage lightly, a noise of pleasure escaping his mouth. The slight searing pain in his wrist starts up as he is vaguely aware of the fact that he is heating his bonds, so he stops. Her hand moves up to grip the shaft with the tips of her fingers, moving up and down along it with an innocent slowness. She moves closer to him and he can catch a grinning face in the darkness.

Something sharp and cool lashes at him and the fabric is peeled away from his body with statically charged fingers. He starts to open his mouth to protest but the noise dies in his throat when he feels a wet, warm sensation sinking down over him. He groans, shifting his hips as he watches this mouth envelope him and suck him voraciously. He knows this is abnormal, that he should question and not allow this to continue, but it feels good and something about it feels familiar and comfortable.

Besides, he reminds himself, he thought she was going to kill him. This is definitely not what he pictured.

Her tongue traces its way along the side of him and flirts with the tip, the muscle rolling over the sensitive skin. He bucks his hips towards her mouth and she handles it with grace, wrapping a hand around the shaft and squeezing it. He lets out an encouraging hiss, biting down on his lips to avoid muttering any of the words he truly wishes to, and simply writhes underneath the woman who has all of the control over his body and its much desired release.

It feels torturously slow with every suck, lick, and swirl of her lips and tongue over him. The pleasure is building an uncomfortably warm knot in the base of his stomach until it finally bursts. He can feel the warmth invading her mouth and is slightly shell-shocked to see her swallow, her tongue catching every sticky drop of his fluid until he is only moist with the saliva from her mouth. She grins again, pulling the sheets up along with her as she climbs to sit back in his lap. His hands twitch and he can't stop himself from speaking.

"You should let me return the favor." His voice is raspy and hoarse, broken with pleasure. She shakes her head but leans down to kiss him, the saltiness of her tongue in his mouth slightly unwarranted but pleasurable all the same. When she pulls away, he can barely force his eyes open from their daze.

She removes the cuffs that kept him in place and slips them into a loop against her waist, throwing her hand out to encourage him to stay put as she starts to head out of the room. Just as she backs out of the door, the moonlight catches her eyes and for a moment, Zuko can see the bound bun of brown curls and bright blue eyes. But the split second has passed and she has slipped out of his room with a quiet click of his door behind him.

At breakfast, Zuko eyes his wife for any telltale signs of his encounter last night. But she plays none the wiser and sits beside him, their daughter snuggled comfortably against her chest. "Someone let themselves into my room last night," he starts, and she gazes up at him as if to determine whether he is serious or not. After a few seconds, she frowns.

"What did they want? They clearly didn't kill you."

"Oh," the Fire Lord starts, mildly amused, "they wanted a few things. I obliged and they were more than happy to leave."

Katara seems to be satisfied with this answer or uninterested in pushing the matter any further, and turns her attention to feeding their daughter. He eats his meal in silence, stopping to look at her intermittently. When he finishes, he stands and heads out of the room, but his wife's voice calls back to him.

"You are very kind to strangers, Fire Lord Zuko."

* * *

**notes:** not sure if this fits the criteria for roleplaying, **Sakarya**, but i am going to try and put it into another prompt as well! tomorrow's prompt will feature hakoda. thank you all for your reviews, stats, and feedback! **let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into the next prompt.**


	15. Wonderland

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

It is easy for Katara to remember when she fell in love with Zuko.

Hakoda, Sokka, and Katara are all in the Fire Nation for diplomatic reasons. For Hakoda, as one ruler to another, he is to converse closely with the Fire Lord and the Earth Kingdom rulers for a week. For Sokka, it means a sparring partner for his skills with the spear and sword. For Katara, it just means a week of teasing Zuko and missing the South Pole. The three Water Tribe members each are granted a villa on the property of the Royal Palace along with the other diplomats.

While Sokka is busy raiding the kitchens, Hakoda watches his daughter by the pond. She is kneeling, her hands gliding over the surface in front of a pair of wary turtleducks. The surface of the pond freezes and crystals burst from the water to adorn ice that replicates a modernized Southern Water Tribe. Cautiously, the turtleducks climb onto the ice, skittering across it. She rains down snowflakes over the ducklings with a smile.

Hakoda kneels beside his daughter. "That's quite a design there." Katara flushes and looks down at her hands. No matter how old she gets, her father's approval will always mean the world.

"It's nothing," she melts it all back into water. "I just miss the first snows of winter when we're here for these political tea parties." Katara rolls her eyes and her father chuckles lightly.

"They're important tea parties, Katara," he says with an air of amusement in his voice, "But I'm sorry you're missing the snow. But there will be plenty of it waiting for you." He sits beside her in silence, his fingers sifting through the water, before he leans to press a kiss to her forehead. Katara closes her eyes for a moment at the familiar gesture, but when she opens her eyes again, Hakoda is gone and she is sitting alone.

Eventually, Sokka returns in time for dinner, and when Katara seeks out her father, she catches him walking alongside the Fire Lord. Zuko is her friend, but Katara has always respected the separation between the nervous wreck of a firebender she grew to befriend and the powerful firebender that ruled one of the most advanced nations in the world. Now, he looks a comfortable mix of the two. He wears the robes of his station and his gait is the measured, easy confidence of a young man. There is a smile on his face as he nods and discusses something animatedly with her father. They both turn to look at her as they see her, and then Hakoda leans in to tell Zuko something with a nod. The Fire Lord turns to her with a grin while her father heads inside of the dining hall with Sokka at his heels.

"Katara," he says, and there is a mischievous tone in his voice, "I need to see you in the courtyard after dinner." He sweeps her into an embrace without speaking further, causing a blush to rise on her cheeks, and then he lets go to join everyone in the dining room.

Even though some of her favorite Water Tribe dishes have been procured for dinner, she is unable to focus. She wants to know what it is that Zuko wants with her after dinner and she finds it hard to enjoy the sea prunes and noodles she has on her plate. After she picks through them, she avoids sprinting out of the hall and into the courtyard. It is empty, save for the few individuals meandering back to their respective villas.

The waterbender sits on a bench in the courtyard, her hands clasped together and her hair whipping in the wind. She doesn't know how much time passes, but she nearly heads back to her villa before she hears an odd shearing of metal. She doesn't know where it's coming from, her hands out and ready to reach for water, before she stops.

It's falling around her. The white flakes fall in her hair and in the open palms of her hands, and Katara grins. She moves her hands to whirlwind the faux snow in a cyclone around her, the shearing sounds getting louder and more frequent until she is drowned in the snow flakes. She laughs and tips her head up to see where the snow is coming from. Above the courtyard, she can see Zuko wielding his broadswords, slicing aggressively at a block of ice with a satisfied smile on his face.

After a solid ten minutes of creating snow, Zuko is surprised when the door behind him is thrown open. He drops his swords at his feet to catch the woman launching herself at him. He laughs as he catches her, their heads collide and the snow drips across her and spills between them as she clings to him.

"Thank you," she says, and leans forward to press a firm kiss to his lips. His golden eyes are wide before he kisses her back, his arms wrapped around her tightly. They knock over several international artifacts on their way across the room, his muttered cursing making her laugh until he lands on top of her. They do nothing but kiss each other passionately, and she finds herself missing the South Pole even less.

Even after she becomes the Fire Lady, Katara finds herself with her naked body pressed closely to his in the surprising warmth of a Fire Nation winter, drawing snow out of the water in the air. It falls against dark and light skin evenly, in the dark strands of his hair, across the scarred side of his face. He wrinkles his nose at the flakes but leans in to kiss her neck with a grin. "Missing the South Pole again?" She rolls her eyes, stopping her flurry of snow to kiss him hard on the lips.

Katara remembers falling in love with Zuko when he made it snow in the Fire Nation.

* * *

**notes:** it's totally up to you to interpret what you think hakoda said to zuko, but yes! a wintry wonderland in the middle of the fire nation. i can't say if i entirely know what i'll write for this prompt coming up but we'll see! it'll be a surprise :) thank you all for your reviews, stats, and feedback! **let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into the next prompt.**


	16. Separate

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Katara's fists are balled up underneath her chin as she smiles at her husband. "Really," she says, her hair falling across her bare back, "it's okay. I really, really want to know. So I know where to look if I happen to make you really, really angry one day." She nudges him with her elbow, but Zuko looks less than amused. The firebender is lying flat on his back, his arm over his eyes, and a slight frown on his lips.

"There isn't anyone else."

"So, she worms her way closer to him in an attempt to peek underneath his arm, "if we were to separate, you wouldn't even think about anyone else?"

"No."

"Ever?"

"…no."

"I don't believe it," Katara scoffs, pulling his arm from over his face and fixing him with a look. "I'd at least try to move on. There's always Aang, or some of the young warriors back in our Tribe have really grown up some—"

"—All right, all right," Zuko grumbles and moves his arm away. "I guess if I absolutely had to, I could think of a few people."

"People?"

Zuko growls. "Women. Only women." It doesn't stop Katara from laughing as she turns onto her side, her fingers dancing over the bare skin of his shoulders.

"Like which women? Like Mai?" Her voice has a hint of teasing to it, but Zuko just rolls his eyes.

"No, not Mai."

"Why not? She was pretty in a sinister sort of way." Katara bursts out into giggles again.

"Why are we even having this conversation?" The waterbender perks up, her blue eyes pleading with him.

"Because I want to! It's funny, and you're all flustered," she reaches over to tickle his chest and he swats at her hands.

"It's ridiculous!"

"Just tell me and I promise I won't bring it up again." She slides her leg across his hip so she is straddling him with a devious flush on her cheeks. It isn't shyness, but the realization that things may end up going in the direction they had gone in barely ten minutes ago.

"Ty Lee."

"What?!" Katara's incredulity gives way to laughter, her hands pressed against his chest. "Tell me why!"

He lets out a sigh. "Even though she behaves…with a certain sense of liberation, she's still nobility. She's pretty, and she's an acrobat. Are we done now?"

They aren't, and he can tell from the mischievous look on her face. She leans down close, her hair falling over her shoulders as she brings her face close to his. "What do her acrobatics have to do with anything?"

This time, it's Zuko who flushes red from his cheeks to his ears, turning his face away from hers and mumbling under his breath. Katara smirks down at him. She slips from underneath the sheets and she shifts until her legs are spread wide over his hips in a split. His nose is scrunched as he feels the pressure of her on top of him.

"Flexibility is important," she starts with a nod, and then her legs close so that they're both resting on his shoulders. "I can see how that's tempting."

The brunette grins, but not for long since Zuko wraps his hands around her thighs and pulls her close. Before she can say something witty, he is sitting up with his face between her legs and her knees hooked against his shoulders, and he leans in to explore. He kisses her skin gently before his tongue settles right to work, licking up and down slowly between her folds. Katara moans and shifts closer to him, her back arching uncomfortably, but her stomach is full of warm, tingling sensations that cancel out the irritation of her position. She tilts her hips up towards him and he accepts this gesture with a deeper delving of his tongue inside of her. She moans loudly, unable to stifle the noise.

"Please," she breathes, looking towards him and then smirking, "I don't know if I could handle Ty Lee getting this treatment."

Zuko pauses and Katara is agitated by it until he shifts, one of her legs underneath him and the other pulled flush against his shoulder as he enters her swiftly. "It's fine," he breathes over her, "you're plenty flexible enough." There is no relenting in his pace. He drives into her hard, their hips grinding together every time that they meet, and Katara sits up with her hands splayed behind her for leverage as she pushes herself forward towards him. It starts as a mixture of pain and pleasure as his skin rubs against the sensitive nub of hers, her mouth gaped open at the intense contact, and it doesn't take long for her body to tighten in release.

Tightening around him, Zuko groans and pushes further, his hands gripping her hips and slamming them into his own until he joins her in clenching, satisfying orgasm. His breathing is labored and hers is too as she falls back against the bed, her hands spread out and her legs still draped over his body. Zuko grins at the picture of her spread across the bed but he doesn't move.

They're silent for an incredibly long time. Zuko leans back against his pillows and Katara's body is so still that everything around her relaxes. Her limbs go limp, her breathing rises and falls evenly, and the sexual tension in her body dissipates. He wonders if she is asleep and he frowns, since she is taking up more than half of the bed. When he slinks down to the foot of their bed, he sees her wide blue eyes staring up at the ceiling.

"Katara?" He asks hesitantly, and she turns her head to face him with a dazed smile.

"There really isn't anyone else," she nods in affirmation, and he leans down to kiss her gently on the lips. That night, they sleep in the nude, upside down and uncovered in their bed, but they sleep together.

* * *

**notes:** so, i really do want to work a triangle into one of these prompts without it seeming forced, but i can't figure out which! i also wrote an entirely different entry for this prompt but changed it since i didn't like how it came out. **let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into the next prompt.**


	17. Snow

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

For the first hour of the insane blizzard, she dares to trek outside and ask if anyone has seen her firebender before her father drags her back inside by the hood of her parka and drops her into a chair. She is happy to be with her father, but being trapped with him in the middle of this storm without her husband is torture for her. She spends the better part of a half hour pouting, and when it fails to work on Hakoda, she lets out a frustrated huff and stomps off to her room.

After she divests herself of her clothes, she climbs underneath her pile of furs and cries softly. Perhaps it is just pure emotion or an exaggeration of the fact that she misses her husband, but she is silent while she weeps, turning around restlessly.

When she wakes up again, she notices a tray with food and tea on her tableside. She smiles to herself at the thoughtfulness of her father before she takes the bowl into her lap, eating slowly at first. After a few minutes, her appetite is more ravenous and she nearly inhales the rest of her food before gulping down her tea. She can't help the content sigh that escapes her lips until she rolls over and falls asleep again.

This time, her blue eyes pry themselves open to a dim room. The little bit of sunlight that they get in the south during the winter has already drifted away and with the darkness spreading, she finds that she misses her husband more and more. Stupid snow, she curses under her breath, starting to feel cranky that Zuko isn't with her to keep her warm.

It is purely subconscious that her hand drifts between her legs. At first, it is an idle gesture that almost seems to be accidental, but she remembers how good it feels when Zuko's hands are there. She cautiously maneuvers the furs around her so they give her room, but still shield her, and gently rubs the pads of her fingers over the inherent warmth between her legs. It's awkward and fumbling because she's never touched herself like this. She was married to a man who was as content with sex as she was, and she hadn't really ever been apart from him. But now, she was alone, and the more than she touched herself, the more momentum she gained.

Even if she wanted to stop now, she couldn't have.

Her fingers curl as they stroke the outside of her, clenching her hand as her fingers press into her body. She keeps her wraps on mostly because she's still unsure of what exactly she'd do, but now she is exploring, trying to figure out what she likes. The angle of her own hands is different from when Zuko does it for obvious reasons, but it doesn't stop her.

She slips her hands into the fronts of her wraps and cautiously touches the outside of her sex. She feels silly not having known about the anatomy of her own genitalia, but she is alone and there's no one to judge her for it. Her probing fingers travel to where she knows her favorite spot is, feeling along the wet film of skin until she finds the opening. She slips a finger in and surprisingly doesn't feel anything as she pushes it curiously against the walls inside. It feels tight with just one finger inside and she slips it out to push in two; she bites down on her lip and almost cries out in pain as she feels skeletal pressure around her fingers. This definitely doesn't feel the same as when Zuko does it to her. She pulls her fingers out gingerly, ignoring the ringing pleasure she now feels from the relieving absence of her fingers. She starts to slide her hand up and brushes against herself with a gasp. She's very, very familiar with that particular part of herself, but she realizes it's a lot more sensitive when touched directly with her bare hands.

"You really missed me, huh?"

Katara doesn't even notice her open door, nor does she see the figure in the doorway until it is too late. She shrieks, pulling her hand away from herself and accidentally brushing that overly sensitive spot again, slumping over in her furs to hide that minor fact. She presses her face into them, mumbling to herself.

"What's that?" Zuko kicks his boots off and laughs, and Katara turns her head to glare at him with icy blue eyes. He's just standing there, the hood of his parka down and his hair full of snowflakes. His face is red but he's laughing at her and it's causing a smile to take over his eyes completely.

"I like it a lot better when you touch me," she admits in a hoarse voice. He grins as he takes his coat off. Soon, he is only clad in pants as he slides down next to her, underneath her furs.

"What'd you do?" His voice is quiet and curious, and she flushes a deep red before she pushes her wraps away from her body and retraces her steps. The look on his face is a predatory one, as if he is waiting for something specific, but Katara keeps going until her fingers are inside of her and she winces.

He swats at her hands. "No," he says, and presses his two fingers gently to her before pushing them inside of her, turned sideways. She gasps and lets out a moan at the cold contrast of her fingers to the warmth inside of her. She contracts and clenches over him, and she flicks her eyes wide open at him.

He simply grins. "I've had a lot more practice than you have, Katara."

For once, Katara is happy that the blizzard is bringing down feet of snow. Selfishly, as her hips slide down towards his fingers, she wonders how long they will be trapped inside.

* * *

**notes:** i love awkward sexual moments, i really do. this was almost, really, really awkward but i managed to tone that down for sexy times. i also promise to write as many of the suggested scenarios i've gotten but if not in this series, they likely will be individual one-shots. **let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into the next prompt.**


	18. Heat

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

"If you touch me, Zuko, I will freeze all of your limbs together," Katara leans in close to the Fire Lord, "and I mean _all_ of them."

Zuko laughs and takes a step away from his wife with his hands up. No matter how long she has lived in the Fire Nation or the fact that she is a waterbender, the height of stifling heat in the Fire Nation summers, particularly on the day before the solstice, continues to irritate her. Everything makes her angry. Seeing him wearing the full length of his robes and "having the audacity to look cool" makes her angry. Their daughter being able to sleep in their bed clad in just a cloth diaper makes her angry. Her hair piled on top of her head makes her angry.

When Zuko reaches and pulls her hair down over her shoulders, she just about threatens to kill him.

"Let me help," he pulls at her robes but she slaps his hands viciously.

"You're a firebender, don't even bother."

Zuko ignores her request. Instead, he unfastens the outer robe and drapes it across the chair. He manages to get the inner robe off so that she's clad in only a tunic, trousers, and her wraps before she whirls on him and strikes a threatening stance.

"Just wait."

The water whip she lashes at his feet speaks enough. Zuko manages to jump and avoid it and the threat of a fire whip causes her to drop her water. He takes this opportunity to tackle her, watching her eyes widen as she hits the floor. Zuko sits on top of her with a grin, one of his hands holding the two of hers above her head. Her lips are pulled into a snarl but the Fire Lord doesn't cease his smirking.

He carefully pushes her tunic up to where her wrappings start and he presses a palm against her stomach. His gold eyes stare into hers as they widen and she gasps, arching her back. Still grinning, he pulls his hand away from hers slowly and presses both hands against her.

"W-what are you doing?" He slides his hands from her stomach towards her back, splaying his large palms against the curves of her spine. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back at the cool sensation spreading across her.

"It's heat redirection," he trails his fingers down her back, watching her face in satisfaction, "well, something like that." He doesn't bother to explain it because the words aren't important, just the actions. Katara seems to be enjoying it a lot so he is careful to keep a hand flush against her while he pulls the rest of her clothes off of her.

He holds her face in his hands for a moment, her eyes dazed as she watches him and then presses his lips against hers in a searing kiss. His hands cool her face but his lips are hot against her. He moves his lips down her body along with his hands, heating and cooling her evenly.

Katara continues to squirm as his hands cover her breasts, the sudden cooling making her nipples stiffen against his hands. He kneads her breasts slowly, stopping only to lay warm kisses against the dark skin before his lips travel down towards her stomach. His hands trail from her chest and down her arms, her hands reaching to wrap around his neck once his fingers drift away.

"There's a lot of heat down here."

"Oh yeah?" her voice is light and airy. "Are you gonna redirect it with your mouth?"

Zuko snorts and stifles a laugh, his face still pressed against her stomach with slight warmth. He lifts his head to look at her before nodding. "I'll try," he said with a smirk, and ducks his head immediately to press his mouth up against her warm entrance. He can feel her clenching the muscles almost intentionally against his mouth and he sucks against the expanding and contracting muscles. She lets out a moan and pulls his head closer to her. She can feel his nose pressed against her but she is too wound up in the warmth of his mouth and the chill of his hands against the inside of her thighs that she can't help but start to grind her hips against him.

He steadies one of her hips with his hands and continues his work before inserting a finger inside of her. At first, she scowls at the rising heat, but as a few seconds pass, the heat diminishes until it feels like a cool air is sucking all of the heat away from her. She moans again, pushing her hips down towards him and her hands clinging to the dark strands of his hair. With the adamant rocking of her hips and the pumping of his finger inside of her, it doesn't take long for her body to react accordingly, seizing as she feels the heat of her core exploding inside of her. The last moan she lets loose is an angry, pleasure muddled noise that he stifles with a gentle nip at her lips.

Grinning, he slides off of her and pulls her into his arms. Now that she is nude, she doesn't particularly mind the excess clothing that he wears, and leans into the cool touch of the fabric to her bare skin. She tucks her head carefully under his chin for a few minutes before she draws back abruptly.

"What?" He offers, attempting to pull her closer. She glares at him.

"I can't leave my hair down," she says as she stands up. Zuko watches her maneuver their room with avid fascination as she locates her inner robe and her hair ribbon, throwing the robe on and carefully tying as much of her hair up as she can manage. He notices with a satisfied grin that her legs are still trembling and her stance is widened.

"Why?" He smirks. "I can always do that again."

* * *

**notes:** so, i will _attempt _to explain what i had in mind with this heat redirection thing. certainly it's nothing extensive like roku had to do with a volcano, but in the theory that heat travels from high concentrations to low concentrations, and firebenders have control over their inner fire and temperature, that if he lowers his temperature or redirects the heat in his body away from his hands (which wouldn't be hard, your hands and feet are naturally colder than the rest of your body) then the heat in her body would seek the cool touch of his hands. hopefully that's not confusing, and if it is, just picture that he's basically heatbending the heat off of her. yeah? **let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into the next prompt.**


	19. Stubborn

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Tonight, the only thing standing between Katara and her quality time with her husband is his affinity for chocolate flavored sweets. She has always heard that he is fond of anything cocoa or of the chocolate variety, and she always jokingly placed herself in that category because of her skin tone. But tonight, as her husband sits in their bed eating a rather large bowl of chocolate custard with painstaking obliviousness to her presence in his chair in the corner of the room.

Katara watches him with his dessert. Normally, it charms her. The way that he's sitting up straight in their bed, dressed casually for sleep. His hair is loose around his bare shoulders, dark locks falling in his widened golden eyes, occasionally flipping it out of the way to spoon more chocolate in his mouth. It's not so charming when she watches him catch chocolate dripping from his mouth with his hands, awkwardly raising his hand to his lips to suck the chocolate from the center of his palm. It's not so charming when he uses his fingers instead of the spoon, and sticks them in his mouth tauntingly. It's definitely not charming at all when he darts his tongue out of his mouth to lick the outside of the dripping bowl clean.

She frowns, drawing her feet up into the chair and folding her arms over her chest. She will not watch him enjoy that infernal dessert, especially when he's paying no attention to her.

"Katara!" Shit. "Are you coming to bed?"

The waterbender tips her head back, gazing at him with a level pair of blue eyes. "Not if you plan to get chocolate everywhere. You're making a mess." She turns her head away again with a sniff and listens to the sounds of him getting out of the bed and crossing the room to her.

"Zuko, I—" She stops suddenly when she feels the cool touch of silver against her thigh. She jolts, but realizes that his hand is steadying her leg and he has spread chocolate on her leg. She can barely give him the proper glare, instead choosing to look away as he sits with his elbows propped against her knees and his eyes watching her suggestively.

Seeing that she's choosing to be stubborn, he continues along with his plans. He leans forward, his tongue languidly tracing the line of chocolate against her skin. She looks enthralled, but won't say as much and will barely look at him, but Zuko only takes it as a challenge. Her other thigh is adorned in chocolate and he licks it slowly, careful to suck and bite the skin there faintly. He thinks that he hears a whimper, but she doesn't move except for the slight squirming of her hips against the chair.

"I do plan to get chocolate everywhere now," he watches her with avid golden eyes, "but I promise I'll clean up after myself."

Katara doesn't seem impressed by his suggestive promise but he doesn't let her silence stop him. After all, he knows that she'll stop him if he's doing something she doesn't want. This time, he scoops the chocolate with his fingers and traces it against her collar and down towards her cleavage. His touch is feather light and he sees her shiver in response to his touch. Only a few seconds later, his mouth is against her neck, biting gently and licking the chocolate on her skin, sucking intermittently to leave tiny blotches of red flesh against the darker tone of her skin. When his tongue dips deep against her collarbone, she lets out a moan that she either cannot or does not stifle.

With his hands on her knees, he pulls back with a slightly smug grin on his face.

She appraises him with a haughty, yet slightly defeated look before mirroring the smug grin he has plastered across his face. She leans forward, their foreheads bumping and presses a kiss to his lips. At first, it's innocent enough, and then his tongue is in her mouth and she can taste the chocolate and she can't help but start laughing.

Surprised, Zuko draws back from their kiss, casually running his tongue over his lips and then frowning slightly. When she stops laughing, she raises her hands to his cheeks and plants another kiss on his lips. "I'm sorry," she says, her forehead pressed against his again, "I was just thinking about how you licked chocolate off of me and I was licking your tongue and basically licking chocolate off of my own self and—"

"Shh," Zuko leans in and kisses her again, effectively silencing her laughter. She allows herself to wind her arms around his neck as he lifts her from the chair and moves her back to the bed, his chocolate dessert effectively abandoned in the place for a new one. She knew that it was only a matter of patience before she got her way and got his attention, although having to be that stubborn was certainly not as pleasurable with him as it was with others.

* * *

**notes:** thanks for taking that last chapter so well! heat redirection is what roku uses to make the lava in the volcano less hot so it is canon, i just interpreted it on my own. this is a little shorter and i don't know if i'm quite satisfied with the direction, but i am exhausted. so don't be surprised if this changes sometime later today along with me adding the next prompt in this series. i meant to say a huge thank you last update, but it slipped my mind! thank you to **Separate Entity** and those of you who faithfully review every chapter to let me know what you like and dislike! thank you to the guests who share their opinion and thanks to everyone for checking out everything else of mine! **let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into the next prompt.**


	20. Demons

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Katara knows how strong her husband is; alternatively, she knows how weak she is. She wouldn't dare tell him that he is weak, that he has weaknesses, but she knows that he does. That much she has divined over the course of their marriage.

Katara knows that whenever she touches the scar on his face with her fingertips or her lips that he isn't thinking of the first time she touched it in Ba Sing Se like he says he is. She knows that he is thinking of the angry, sharp contours of his father's face. She knows that deep down, he is kneeling and gazing up at an unforgiving father with tears running down his face. This is why, when she touches or kisses his scar, she looks into his eyes with a look that says, 'I hope you can forgive yourself.'

Katara knows that whenever she runs her fingers through his hair that he doesn't like it some days as much as he does on others. Some days, the full length of his hair reminds him of the days where he wore it back as a child, not yet a Crown Prince, but still royalty, still happy. Some days, her fingers against his scalp remind him of the way his hair had been shorn away from his scar, and yet he refused to cut his top knot. Some days, when she moves his hair away from his forehead, it reminds him of his days as a refugee and the one night his uncle decided to slick his hair back for a date, when he momentarily forgot all the troubles in his life and was his true, teenage self. This is why, when she plays with his hair, she kisses his forehead as a gesture to say, 'I love every person that you have been.'

Katara knows that whenever she touches the scar on his chest with her fingertips or her lips that it isn't always a reminder of how much he loves her like he says it is. She knows that he is thinking of the agile, cunning little girl who hid all of his picture scrolls, or snuck into his room late at night just to talk to him, or tried to warn him in her own way about his future. She knows that he's thinking of Azula and how he let her down, how she was reduced to a crimson pile of fire and tears, tied down like a wild beast. She knows that he feels as if it is his fault for his sister's demise, that even though he is dedicated to her recovery, that he should have been as dedicated to her health when he was younger. This is why, when she touches or kisses his scar, she rests her cheek against it to say, 'You did everything that you could do.'

Katara knows that whenever she interlaces their fingers together, palm to palm, that it is intimate for reasons other than sex. She knows that his hands are sensitive; they hold his dao, they release his fire, they take care of himself and others. She knows that they have shed blood, they have supported others, they have made life changing decisions with a final blow or swing (or a lack thereof). They have traveled the world and made realizations about everything around them. She knows that his hands are almost as sensitive as his heart is. This is why, when she holds his hands against hers, she says, 'You always make me feel safe.'

Katara knows that when they have sex, it is a lot more complicated than just the carnal pleasure of their bodies coming together. She knows that when he roams her body aimlessly with his hands, that he is lending her his strength and subsequently his weakness. He is baring the most delicate and sensitive part of himself to her body in reverence, adding the shapes and feeling of her body against his hands to the history of touch that they hold. That deep between the feeling of fire licking at his palms and the feeling of his own hair in his hands lays the feeling of her skin against his palms. She knows that when he kisses her anywhere that he is giving her the respect of a lady. He is showering her in devotion, covering every inch of her body with the promise of respecting her and every little piece of her. That it feels great in the grand scheme of ecstasy, but it is a show of worship for him. She knows that when he bites her, it's because she likes it. It's also because her skin feels tingling and smooth and a sharp bite reminds her that this is all real, that everything she feels deep down can be manifested on the surface. She knows that when he pushes himself deep inside of her with his hands pressed against her back and hers clinging to his shoulders, that with his legs wrapped around her and their hips pressed together, that it isn't just sex. It is the desire for closeness, it is his attempt to be as physically close to her as possible, to represent the fact that in his soul, they are one entity, and he wants it to be that way right then, with his forehead pressed firmly against hers and his lips showering her face in adoration and affection.

Katara knows that when she wakes up in his embrace, with his arms around her and his face pressed into her neck, her hair over his cheeks, that there is no hidden meaning or intention behind it. He holds her this way because he loves her with all of his heart and with all of the demons that reside there. This is why, when he holds her this way, she laces their fingers together and sleeps with a smile that says, 'I love you with all of my heart, too, even with your demons.'

* * *

**notes:** another not-exactly-smut one, but i didn't think the typical blue spirit direction was worth it and that this one was a lot sweeter. i really would like to take the time to thank all of you that have been following and reviewing this! you have no idea how much it means to me, and i'd reply to all of you if i wasn't s awkward and had anything to say other than thank you a lot! for those of you with tumblr, feel free to follow me at **xavalos dot tumblr dot ****com** for some things that are too short to post here. also, i tend to post my entries for zutara month here just a little bit earlier as well.

additionally, i'd like to add that all of the suggestions i've received in my reviews, that i am going to write even if the 31st comes and it hasn't shown up here! i promise you all that much. so at the least, if it doesn't show up as a separate story here, then i may add it to my tumblr and simply pm it to you. as always, **let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into the next prompt.**


	21. Traditions

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

"So, tell me why they're throwing fruit on our bed again?"

Katara's arms are folded over her chest and she tips her head back to give her newlywed husband a critical look. Zuko frowns and folds his arms over his chest in retaliation. They are standing in the full regalia of their titles; Zuko is wearing the full crown, mantle, and robes of the Fire Lord while Katara is dressed in her newly ordained Fire Lady robes, the ornament sitting in her hair at a slight angle. People are filing in and out of their bedroom in a queue, tossing pomegranate seeds, dates, grapes, and grains of rice onto their neatly made bed.

"I've already explained it to you," he huffs indignantly, "it's a blessing—"

"And it's fun!" called Toph as she unceremoniously pelted their bed with a handful of what Katara calls 'fertility debris'. She paused again to twist her feet against the floor, and with alarming precision, tossed a grape at the Fire Lord. He'd have been more amused if the offending fruit hadn't pegged him in the center of his forehead before it rolled away. Zuko rubs the spot absently and growls under his breath before turning back to his wife.

"It's a blessing from friends and family. We built our bed together as a symbol of our new life together and now they're supposed to cover the bed in fruit and rice to bless us with fertility." Katara drops her arms from her chest to wind one around his waist and place one on his crossed arms, standing on the tips of her toes to whisper in his ear.

"Does that mean we have to have sex on the fruit too?"

Zuko coughs and splutters; at his side, Katara is laughing at his rapidly reddening face. Just having entered the room, Sokka and Suki toss a handful of fruit onto the bed and turn their attention to the couple. Katara is still laughing, attempting to hide her giggles behind her hand as encouragement to not laugh as loudly as she wants in front of her guests. Zuko is avoiding eye contact with Sokka for reasons that are more obvious to the firebender than the warrior. Sokka only gives the couple a strange look, while Suki wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and the laughter and spluttering starts again. Thankfully, Sokka notices her behavior and starts to lead her away.

Finally, Zuko sets himself up straight, careful not to dislodge his crown as he runs his fingers through the length of his hair that isn't restrained in a top knot. Katara's eyes follow his hands with a grin, but she doesn't speak. She simply hooks her arm with his, leans against his broad and strong frame, and greets every diplomat, friend, and family member with the appropriate title and thanks.

When Zuko finally shuts the doors to their bedroom, it couldn't be any more relieving to her. She unties her sash and shrugs off her outer robe, laying it over the chair as she saunters over to Zuko. The Fire Lord is standing at the edge of the bed, peering at all the mess on the top of the sheets. She wraps her arms around his waist and leans her head against his back.

"You never answered my question," she says in a melodious voice, and he turns around to face her with a quirked eyebrow.

"No," he breathes out, leaning down to kiss her chastely, "we don't have to do anything on top of the fruit." He intends to pull away from her but she tilts her face up towards his to catch his lips, first with her teeth and then with her own soft lips. His hands cup her cheeks as he leans down to deepen the kiss and before he realizes it, her hands are at work on his clothes. It is to his advantage that he allows Katara to help him dress on most mornings, since now she works each of the knots and clasps with a rapid deftness that has him nearly naked in a matter of minutes. She only smirks, pushing him back onto the bed, and climbs on top of him.

"You're crushing grapes underneath me," he announces, but Katara only pulls off her robe and grins, leaning over his head to reach for a date to chew on.

"It'll be like wine in our sheets then," she said with a jovial grin, pulling him up from his position on his back and resting her hands against his shoulders.

"Are you really going to—" He doesn't have to ask the question anymore because her hands are down the front of his pants and she is looking at him with a playfully inappropriate look in her eyes. He groans and fumbles to pull his pants away from himself, letting her work her hands over him smoothly. He tilts his head back and faintly feels his hair brushing his shoulders.

"I really like your hair at this length," Katara smirks as her lips press against his exposed neck, "it's really sexy."

It's weird and eccentric and strange for the two of them as Katara pushes her wraps aside, not bothering to take them off as she moves her legs around his waist and sinks herself down on top of him. She lets out a moan and rather than leaning back, she throws her arms around his shoulders and pulls herself as close as she can manage. He pushes in and out of her slowly, one hand bracing her lower back and the other pushing fruits and rice out of the way so he can place a flat palm in the bed. It doesn't take long to find a decent speed, and Katara easily reaches her peak before him, her fingers digging into his back and her moans loud in his ears. Zuko's release doesn't follow as quickly, but Katara aids as much as she can before he too is spent.

Straightening herself, she stands and gazes at the bed. "Are we supposed to sleep in this?" Zuko pulls his pants up and looks at the sheets curiously, before gathering the corners and motioning for Katara to join him in these efforts. When she does, he grins, and leads the way.

Honestly, the Royal Guardsmen have mostly gotten used to the antics of the Fire Lord and his wife, but when an assortment of rice grains, pomegranate seeds, grapes, and dates are rained down from the balcony of their room, they wonder if they will ever get used to their Lord and Lady.

* * *

**notes:** so! the tradition here is a chinese (or other asian, i can't really recall) wedding tradition to promote fertility. friends and family members toss dates and pomegranates onto the newlyweds' bed the night of their wedding to wish them good fortune and to encourage child in the first year of their marriage. another tumblr user **gongjooya** confirmed that they do something similar in korean weddings, but the bride catches dates and chestnuts in a sash to symbolize the number of boys and girls she is having. anyway, i added the other elements (grapes and rice grains) because i really wanted the image of a bed full of debris, and i needed toph to throw a grape at zuko's head. for those of you with tumblr, feel free to follow me at **xavalos dot tumblr dot ****com** for some things that are too short to post here. also, i tend to post my entries for zutara month here just a little bit earlier as well. as always, **let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into the next prompt.**


	22. Forbidden

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Katara knows that the young Fire Lord is nothing but trouble.

They first reconnect on a Peace Summit, where he has traveled with an entourage of advisors and guards and somehow manages to be amicable with all of the tribesmen. Katara completely forgets that her father told her about his arrival until she sees one of the older warrior boys engaging the Fire Lord in hand to hand combat. Katara watches the firebender maneuver himself fluidly, striking quickly and knocking the other boy off of his feet. Then he laughs, a bright smile takes a warm residence in his cheeks, and he is helping the other boy up with a grin. When he spots her, the smile on his lips presses his cheeks into a blush and his happiness reaches his eyes. Katara can't remember anything more beautiful than his sparkling golden eyes as he comes over to her and wraps her up in a tight embrace. "Katara," he breathes against her and she shivers, "I'm so happy to see you."

She doesn't see him until later, when his blue parka is partially unzipped and two young girls are giggling over the state of him. Crimson peeks out from underneath the blue but what has Katara's attention is the now full length of his hair as it brushes his shoulders. One girl has pulled it back into the tribal style of the Southern Water Tribe, the familiar wolftail, while another girl is braiding tiny strands together and clipping azure beads to the end. "Master Katara!" The youngest girl stands up on Zuko's thighs, turning over her shoulder to grin. The Fire Lord offers her a matching grin. "Doesn't he look handsome?" The two girls gush and Zuko's face reddens, but Katara turns before she is made to answer that question. She knows he does.

"Nice hair," Katara catches her father speaking to Zuko after he ducks out of the igloo, and something about the way he tips his head back cavalierly causes her to stare a little longer at him, "I figured you'd like it," Zuko replies, and the waterbender turns her gaze back to the pile of laundry she had folded for herself, shaking her head for blushing so intently.

When Zuko leaves, he doesn't tell her. He simply catches her in the middle of an impromptu waterbending lesson and wraps his arms around her waist, nuzzling her cheek with his nose. "It was nice seeing you," he says, and before she can even muster up the decency to blush, the Fire Lord is retreating. If the pile of water suddenly on the ground speaks for her, she is shocked, and her students begin to giggle and whisper about Master Katara's blaringly obvious crush.

She doesn't see him again for months and it isn't at all planned. She is in Ba Sing Se with Aang and there are massive crowds in the Jasmine Dragon. Katara assumes that they are because the Avatar has shown up, but when Aang holds the door open for her, she spots the back of a familiar frame. Tall, broad shoulders, long, dark brown hair tied up in a top knot. Zuko turns and spots them standing there and with a tray balanced on his hand and another against his hip, he walks over to them. "Come with me," he beckons and while Aang nods, Katara's eyes are on the way he swivels his hip as he speaks before he turns and leads them to the back tearoom. Along the way, she notices the women batting their eyelashes at the Fire Lord as he passes, and a surprising well of jealousy springs in her chest.

Aang and Katara stay in the back to talk to Iroh, but she is paying attention very little to their conversation because she can hear Zuko speaking to a customer mere feet away. Aang's hand against her back is the only thing that jars her from listening and when she exits the tearoom, she is nose to nose with the smirking Fire Lord. "Hi," he breathes, before turning on his heel. Katara wants to slap him for making her feel like a blushing fourteen year old girl all over again.

They see each other in between then. Katara ends up in the Fire Nation with Aang on diplomatic assistance, they meet in Gaoling to visit Toph, they meet again in the South Pole for a Peace Summit. But when they finally meet in the tea shop again, things are vastly different. Zuko is a few years older and no less attractive, and perhaps a lot more confident than he used to be. He teases Toph at their table at the Jasmine Dragon, closed for the afternoon to the Gaang gathering there. The blind earthbender threatens to whip him with the length of her ponytail and he only laughs, while Sokka leans over the table and insists that Toph's curling black hair is like a whip, with Suki teasing him over being sensitive. When Katara and Aang arrive, his hand is not against her back as it usually is, and there is a visible distance between them despite the fact that they both sit down next to Toph. Or, they start to.

"No," Toph slides out of her chair and folds her arms, "I refuse to sit next to Sparky anymore. He's trying to talk to me like I'm one of those stuffy noblewomen trying to get in his royal trousers!"

Katara ends up sitting between Aang and Zuko as Toph drops down on Suki's other side.

"So you wouldn't marry me, Lady Bei Fong? I expect you'd have a hefty dowry set up for you and it'd be my absolute honor to take you as my bride." Zuko's voice is cracking with amusement and Katara sees Suki, sitting opposite her, laughing and watching Toph's face explode into a bright angry red.

The rest of their evening passes pleasantly, and Zuko is the first to stand to clear out the plates on the insistence that he is more familiar and has more experience as a waiter. Everyone seems to take this as a challenge, making the firebender hold his palms out as they precariously stack dishes against them. He holds the tower with ease and even manages to create a fireball from underneath the stacks before everyone deems him a master refugee and shoos him away to discard of their plates. Sokka and Suki are the first to take off while Toph tags along, insisting that it's dark and she should be escorted to her temporary lodgings. Aang and Katara gaze at each other before the waterbender offers to clean up and Aang goes to ready Appa for their departure.

This is how she catches him cleaning the dishes. They've almost all been rinsed and he heats the water before scrubbing them and steaming them dry. "You really are a charming refugee," Katara is timid and Zuko doesn't seem to be spooked by her sudden appearance. He only keeps scrubbing and steaming. She stands in the doorway while he finishes up and when he does, he turns as he wipes his hand on an apron on the counter.

"Aang and I," she starts, but she stops when Zuko crosses the distance between them. His breath is warm against her cheek and his hands around her waist are gentle, but firm. "I've always wanted to be with you," his voice is steady and absent of nerves. "I know you want to be with me too." There is nothing arrogant in his voice, but he lets go of her and brushes past her out of the room. When she finally gets control of her legs, she follows him but catches him with an arm slung over Aang's shoulders, chatting jovially with the young Avatar. Neither Aang nor Katara speak until they get to the Fire Nation, and when she starts to crack, Aang only gives her a hug and says, "I hope that one day, you get to be as happy as you've made me."

Katara cries for five hours under the watch of the palace servants. She doesn't stay for very long after that.

When she returns to the Fire Nation of her own volition, she seeks an audience with the Fire Lord. When 'Fire Lord Zuko grants her permission' to enter his office, Katara practically leaps into his arms and showers him with open-mouthed kisses. Even though the nature of their relationship is newly passionate, Katara doesn't waste any time as she makes up for every blush, every awkward splutter and every minute of subtle grace that he has used to carry himself in the years that he has harbored feelings for her. She fully intends to make up for every moment lost in the meantime.

Katara knows that the young Fire Lord is nothing but trouble, but her life has been bland and empty lately, and she finds that she is starting to crave just a little bit of trouble.

* * *

**notes:** this note is long as hell, sorry. i just have a few things to address. (1) i'm sorry that this is also not smut. my intention was to chronicle a relationship between zuko and katara in which he is not the one hopelessly fawning over her as he is in most stories (but he does have strong feelings for her, which is the cause of his behavior anyway). he clearly is infatuated and adores her, but she seems to be embarrassed by the fact that he reduces her to mush without trying. it also slightly chronicles how they ended up together in this series anyway. the intent is to display her feelings as inappropriate because she is in a relationship and yet there is some sort of attraction that shouldn't be between them; therefore, forbidden. (2) this is a lot longer than i intended for it to be, but i really wanted to devote my time to this aspect. i have decided to write a smut version of this prompt but i will not be publishing it here. instead, you can find it on my tumblr at the url: **xavalos dot tumblr dot ****com slash post slash 38561114746**, sorry for the inconvenience, you guys! as always, **let me know if you liked it! or who i should try to work into the next prompt.**


	23. Serenity

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Zuko used to believe that the nights of the full moon lent Katara unbelievable amounts of energy. He remembers how powerful he felt under the power of the comet and suspects that she feels similarly under the full moon. But during the full moon, his wife is tranquil; she floats around their room putting robes in the armoire and carefully tucking things back into the spots they were meant to be in. When she is content to lay with him in bed, she curls her body beside his and lays gentle, calm kisses against his shoulders and neck. Even when she throws her leg over his waist and straddles him, it is with a gentle smile and slow moving hands; no trace of teasing or unresolved sexual tension or anything vicious. She just has her weight pressed in his lap, leaning over and letting her hair brush against his chest, and simply the peacefulness of her composure seems to enrapture her more than his body's reactions.

"Relax," she always tells him, but he wonders how she can ever relax with the thrumming of blood so powerful in her body, the rushing of water so prominent in her ears, and all of the liquid in the world calling out to her under the tides of the moon.

Tonight, she is in their courtyard dressed in only her wraps. There is no one else with him and he leans against the doorway to watch her. She draws up a small amount of water in her palms, her legs spread slightly and her arms flowing over one another. She lunges slightly to the left before shifting her weight to her right foot, pushing and pulling the water like a wave between her fingertips and forearms. The water crests and breaks, leaving little droplets against her skin before she pulls her fingertips together and stretches her arms wide, like she is holding a harp string between her fingers. The water thins into a ribbon and coils itself around Katara's body, from her wrists over her shoulders and around her waist and between her legs.

He is mesmerized as she uses the sway of her hips to glow the water around her and send it pulsing and sliding around her like a wound spring. It climbs up her body, around her thighs, between her shoulder blades, and glows. Zuko barely realizes that he has stepped up behind her until she is turning around to face him with a small smile. His hands hover over her hips and the heat causes her water to tremble over her body as it starts to heat. Steam rolls in the trail of water around her and he grins, leaning forward to press as kiss to his lips.

"Relax," she coos, "you're heating everything up." She draws up a little more water and presses it to her body to cool her before she turns around again. She returns to swaying the water over her body even though she can feel his arms underneath hers, his warm limbs moving fluidly underneath hers. He isn't bending fire, but he moves as she sends the water coursing over their skin and between their bodies. She tips her head back against his shoulder and closes her eyes, not surprised when she slides her feet apart slightly and his mimic hers, his lips pressed against her neck.

He kisses her neck despite the fact that she is content with the passive movements of her bend, her eyes closed and nothing but his lips and warm night air brushing against her body. His hands wrap fully around her waist as she raises her hands to draw the water up above her head into a small cloud of condensation, mixing and swirling it above her slowly. It isn't until his hands press between her legs that her tranquility is disturbed, droplets of water falling around her like a sudden rain as she bites down a moan that rises in her throat. She squeezes her thighs together but his fingers still press temptingly against the fabric between her legs. The moon always tends to make her feel serene and placid, but now she is starting to feel the sensual pull that is aided by Zuko's hands and the heat that he presses so avidly against her body.

Somehow, Katara turns in his grip and presses her lips to his. There is only a sliver of contact before their mouths part and tongues glide over one another, darting and pushing at one another. Katara fists her hands in the shoulders of his robes and his hands are supporting her lower back and cupping her underneath her thighs, and she hums pleasantly into his mouth as her fingernails dig in tighter in an attempt to pull him closer.

His hand from underneath her thigh shifts suddenly and it is between her wraps, stumbling by touch until it reaches the wet, slippery warmth that is soaking her bindings slightly. Katara gasps and her body seems to shoot upward, as if she is going to climb up Zuko's legs and reach his shoulders, but she tries to push her feet down as his fingers stroke her slowly. She grinds her hips against his fingers slowly and she nearly concusses herself as she pushes her forehead against his.

"I was," she pants, a moan interrupting her as she throws her head back, "trying to be," she tips her head back to an upright position, her fingers digging deeper into the fabric of his robes and her mouth parted in concentration, "calm," she moans, "and docile," she shudders, "and serene and…and oh, Zuko!" She cuts herself off as his fingers push inside of her and she leans forward to sink her teeth into his shoulder. She is trembling the way her water trembled under the heat, and she swears viciously under her breath. She sees his grin in the haze of her blue eyes and frowns.

"No one is ever gonna get any peace when you've got hands like this," she starts to berate him until her body tingles with pretense of impending climax, her hands shoot out to grip his wrists, and she isn't so sure that it's a terrible thing that Zuko makes her restless on nights where the moon is full.

* * *

**notes:** so, i have a lot of issues with the continuity of this. then again, it is 5am so it's probably really messy and i apologize for that. i always find waterbending to be sensual and hypnotic and i really wanted to convey that here, that it's almost a peaceful, meditative type of bending when done alone and that zuko just came by and meddled up katara's 'meditations' if you will. i can't believe this is the last week of zutara month, it's been such an adventure both with my writing and these prompts to participate and i've loved every second of it! thank everyone for the follows, the views, the favorites, the reviews, and everything else! i really, really adore you all.


	24. Tea

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

One of many things she learns in the first week of unofficially dating the Fire Lord is that he has a really secret fondness for working in his uncle's tea shop. He is there at least one weekend or one week a month and she has volunteered to come along with him for what will be their weekend away from the prying eyes in the Royal Palace.

His first day there is just like how she remembers seeing him; he saunters around lifting empty tea cups, chatting with customers, and his hair is tied away from his face with a green ribbon but without his normal top knot; it just hangs loosely from the ribbon, swaying as he moves. She sits calmly at the counter and watches as women continuously bat their eyelashes at him, reach to grab at his apron for his attention, and one particularly feisty noblewoman slaps him on the ass, causing him to jump, blush, and head back towards the tearoom. Katara grumbles under her breath as she sees this and heads back to follow him.

"Do they _have_ to put their hands all over you?" She folds her arms over her chest; from the corner of his eye, she can see Iroh with a subtle smile on his lips as he brews a pot of tea.

"It's not like I want them to, Katara," he snaps back at her, taking the pot from his uncle when he gestures to it and pours six cups of tea, careful not to spill any, "they just do it."

"And you like it!" Zuko rolls his eyes as he lifts the tray, purposefully sweeping strands of loose dark hair away from his face and heading out of the tearoom. "You just _love_ coming back here to serve tea and wallow in the attention!"

If the door hadn't been a swinging one, he'd have slammed it as he walked by. She watches with a glare as he approaches the same noblewoman who appears to be tittering and apologizing for her behavior and Zuko answers her with a flush and vague gesturing with his hands. Then, to her horror, he sits down opposite the woman and takes a cup of tea between his hands to heat slightly. He sips it and starts talking, and Katara huffs before she turns back into the tearoom and nearly bowls Iroh over.

The elder firebender only reaches to steady her so she doesn't fall, chuckles, and then says, "Master Katara, if you're requiring a nice, calming cup of tea, I have brewed something and left a cup for you by the stove. Please, help yourself." He passes her and she sulks, settling herself into a chair and pulling the cup of tea towards her. She sniffs it hesitantly before taking a sip. It's a delightful blend, not that it surprises her, and it's sweet as it works down her throat, only leaving an aftertaste that causes her to smile. It doesn't take her long to finish her cup and pour another.

Katara doesn't even realize that she has been sitting in the tearoom for a half hour. She _definitely_ doesn't realize that she has drank an entire pot of tea.

When Zuko heads back, he only peeks in tentatively and enters when she doesn't acknowledge him. "Katara?" He moves up behind her and drops a hand onto her shoulder. "You're not still mad, are you? Because, well, I talked to that noblewoman and she uh, well. I told her I was spoken for and everything and she was pretty calm about it, I think she was just having a mid-life crisis or something and just wanted to, uh, yeah. Katara, I'm sorry, you know I didn't…"

He trails off as her hand settles against his and she turns around. Her face is serene and she stares at him with an oddly ravenous look in her eye. He takes a step back nervously, but it's too late as she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him deeply. He shouldn't be as worried as he is, and he finds himself relaxing against the insistence of her mouth. Her lips press against his and her tongue traces her teeth, licks over his tongue, and explores the side of his mouth. He is practically inhaling the sweet aftertaste of her tea.

Her hands pull from his neck but not without digging her fingernails into his skin, dragging them down across his chest. She pulls at his apron strings and Zuko takes a step back, his eyes widened at her. "Katara, I'm supposed to be working," he manages to breathe out, knowing that if he stays that he won't be up to working. Katara frowns as she starts to work through this fact before folding her arms and storming out of the tearoom.

When he catches up to her, she is standing opposite of his uncle, fidgeting between her feet and rubbing her arms. Iroh seems to be laughing and pats her on the shoulder as her face flushes, and when she turns to see him standing there, she marches over to grab his wrist. "We're leaving," she announces rather loudly before she pulls him out of the tea shop.

"Katara, what are you _doing_?" She leads the way to his uncle's house in the Upper Ring, unlocking the door and locking it after her. She turns around and shoves him back against the door, her fingers working at the knots of his clothes and pleased that they're a lot less complicated than his Fire Lord robes. He stops asking questions and cautiously starts to help, but when his clothes are pooled on the floor, she grabs him by a fistful of hair and yanks his face down to hers. He yelps, but she suppresses it with her mouth, her kisses more needy and aggressive as she wraps both of her arms around his neck to pull him down to her. Her lips move and she bites his jaw, his neck, sucking at the skin there before biting his collarbone and listening to the airy whimpers he lets out because of it.

She steps back to admire her work while pulling her tunic over her head, unwinding the strands of her plait so her hair falls loosely behind her, and kicking her shoes off of her feet. This time, it's Zuko who steps up to her and kisses her, making a very good mimicry of her desperately passionate kisses. Her fingernails dig into his arms and she curls her arms underneath his, gripping onto his shoulders as she inches herself up to wrap her legs around his waist. He lets out an odd noise when she does but she counters with a moan, grinding her hips absently.

"Please," she breathes, and it's odd to him that she sounds so out of breath, "please touch me, Zuko." He can feel her shivering, her nails scratching him and her teeth nipping at his skin and her body rolling against his. He turns so she has her back against the wall and she lets her legs hang over his hips, but her hands reach down to the growing bulge still trapped in his undergarments. He moans as she frees it and it springs up to meet the warmth of her thighs. Subconsciously, she swivels her hips so her thighs caress him. She shoves him carefully, her feet hitting the floor and she pushes him back onto a low table behind him.

"Katara," he starts, but she sinks her mouth down over his erection and all of his vocabulary flies out of the window. He ignores the fact that she seems to be purposefully scraping her teeth against him and arches into her mouth, and she is more than happy to comply, pulling her hands away from him so she can remove her bindings. She sits up for a moment to pull them completely away, and before Zuko can speak or even move, she has settled herself on top of him and is moving at an unbelievable speed. He tries to moan but his throat goes hoarse and she presses her hands against his chest, her nails digging into him and her hair falling over his shoulders.

"Spirits," his voice quivers weakly, "Katara, holy…" The waterbender seems to be ignoring him and focusing on the movement of their bodies, of her hips and his hips as he thrusts up into her, as if she can feel every single thing he does, every single touch and shift of weight.

She starts a low whine as she aches for more and stands up suddenly, Zuko's mouth opening in protest until she kneels with her knees just over his shoulder; he lifts his head and his tongue flicks out to touch the sensitive inside of her entrance and she moans, unnecessarily loud. He doesn't have the time to tell her to quiet down because she grabs his hair and pulls him closer to her, feeling his tongue probe and his mouth suck against the skin. She throws her head back as he puts one of his hands on her thighs and uses the other to touch her, rubbing against the slightly rigid skin. It's a lot more effective and she moans, grinding against his mouth until her thighs clench and her body seizes.

He carefully eases her away but just as he thinks she is done, she bends down and her mouth is around him again, her teeth moving and her hands churning over him. His fingers thread through her hair and he feels his toes curl as his climax follows her ministrations dutifully.

When Iroh returns to his home in the Upper Ring, he immediately notices that his dining table is missing. There is a tiny, women's shoe in his foyer, and a green ribbon is discarded by the door. He chuckles lowly to himself as he heads to his room, peeking in to see his nephew and his girlfriend curled underneath the covers; his table is beside their bed and covered with their clothes. He shakes his head to himself and quickly gets himself ready for bed.

Next time, he'll have to warn the waterbender not to drink an entire brew that she is unfamiliar with, and assure her that infusing her tea with an aphrodisiac was only meant to soften her wrath.

* * *

**notes:** i really am amused by the table. like, in my head they look at it after (in horror) and decide to take it with them so they don't scar iroh for life. but silly iroh, i have noticed a similar pattern of writing these scenes for me so i decided (and hoped) that if i threw in something altering like that, that it'd give me the license to write some different, take charge sort of stuff. sorry that it's so long, though! happy christmas (and happy holidays) to everyone reading! thank you all for the reviews and continuous support through this month, i've appreciated it so much. i promise that i read all of your reviews and when there is criticism, i take it and try to improve or change whatever the issue is, but mostly i enjoy reading your opinions on these prompts! so thank you thank you thank you.


	25. Light

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

He always lights a pathway for her to follow.

She knows that sometimes he likes to meet in the center of their quad but all she has to do is gaze out her window to see him seated in the center of a ring of lit candles. Tonight, there are only a small handful of candles in the quad in the shape of an arrow pointing away from her. She walks along the sidewalk where candles light the way, following the winding pavements until she stops down by the end of the small lake beside one of the campus dormitories.

It's there that she can see him. He's sprawled flat on his back, his hands beneath his head and a ring of candles around him. There is some other misshapen object beside him, but she can't quite make it out. When she gets close enough, she sees that he's lying on a blanket and beside him is a wrapped basket. She sits on the other side of the basket without a word; he doesn't move either, except to open his eyes. The two of them are quiet for a long time until she speaks.

"You got a good luck basket," she notes. He gives her a grunt of affirmation and shifts slightly. "Is it from your uncle?"

"'Zula," he says without a beat, "but I think it's poisoned."

She doesn't know whether it's the startling honesty or the idea of a poisoned basket of snacks that causes it to happen, but she bursts out into laughter, slapping her palms against the ground. He sits up, propping his hands behind him and glares at her. She manages to reign in her laughter before reaching to pick through the basket. Rice crisps, boxes of tea leaves, candies, other trinkets.

"So you brought it to share with me? How very Romeo of you," she teases, moving the basket out of the way so she can sit closely to him. He looks affronted for a moment and she almost laughs again; only he can manage to look appalled by her closeness despite the fact that they've been even closer before. She hesitates before she leans her head onto his shoulder, and they fall into a comfortable silence again.

"Once…once we graduate, will we ever see each other again?" His voice is low and raspy, but tinged with the hoarseness of emotion. He clears his throat but she can see past that. She wraps her arm around his waist and leans into his body.

"I don't know," she answers quietly, "I…I don't think so."

Her answer sits between the two of them awkwardly. He sighs. She presses herself closer. And the two of them try to ignore the fact that these are the last sets of exams that they have left with each other as comfort, the unofficial bonds of a relationship.

She cries when she kisses him on the lips. It isn't a depressing cry, despite her sadness. It is a gentle, harmless crying that doesn't do much to deter him when he cups her cheeks in his hands and she moves to sit herself in his lap. She pulls her arms around his waist and presses her body against his, and then he touches her carefully. His fingers trace her face, his thumb brushing her lips and the tips of his fingers wiping her tears away. He kisses her cheek, under her eyes, across her nose.

"I'll fail," he says and she starts laughing against him, "I'll fail all my exams."

She doesn't stop laughing until he's kissing her again, his tongue curling against the roof of her mouth and his hands sliding under her shirt to cradle her back. Before she can protest anything, her shirt is off and she's lying on her back, and he's hovering over her and she's _still_ laughing at him. He scowls for a moment before he leans down to kiss her again and she stops again, her hands fumbling at the hem of his shirt before she pulls it over his head and runs her palms down his chest. Things progress gradually from there.

Her touches are slow and light and she barely realizes that they've taken all their clothes off until she feels his hand between her legs and she gasps. There isn't a lot of foreplay and she doesn't mind it, because he enters her slowly so he can draw her into his arms. It isn't some crude behavior; she's not having sex with him, he's not fucking her. They are moving and working together in symbiosis; she pushes her hips forward and he pushes his hips forward and he tangles his hands in her hair and she looks into his eyes and they are loving each other equally. It is chilly outside and perhaps that only serves to bring them closer to one another. Their legs wrap around one another, their hands cup each other closer in an attempt to protect the warmth that they cherish.

In the approach of their climax, they make empty promises. He promises that this won't end, that he's going to see her, that this touch won't be their last. She promises all the same things; she also promises not to eat any of the things out of his good luck basket.

It's the last time she sees him, because he always sees her. He thinks he sees her in the crowd of his graduation, or in the alleys of the market; he thinks she lingers just in the corner of his vision, but when he turns, she isn't there. He always sees her in his dreams.

She works diligently when she returns the following year; sometimes, she laughs at how much she can accomplish when he's not distracting her from studying or trying to get her to do something she ought not to be doing. Sometimes, she cries because she misses him so much and would rather get nothing done than to be without him any longer. She walks the same pavements that they used to walk together under the cover of clouds and stars. She dates publicly now; she refuses to hide anything any longer. She tries to be happy, but it's seemingly pointless.

When she settles for her first night, an envelope is brought to her. Inside, there is a boarding pass with her name on it, and a photo of a map with several points marked with stickers in the shape of flames. She smiles just long enough so that she doesn't start to cry.

He always lights a pathway for her to follow.

* * *

**notes:** i am even further behind because of the holidays, but i hope you all enjoyed yourselves no matter whether you celebrated or not! this one i decided to write after having an AU idea in my head about this prompt and combined it with a request by **Sakarya**: Katara and Zuko are at university studying and slip away together for a short "study break." i would have written it sooner but i missed it on the list i made to keep track of suggestions! i wanted to keep this entire story in the same universe, but this along with "holiday" are going to be in an AU for the sake of writing a modern christmas tale. thanks for the continued support! i appreciate all of it and all of you guys :)


	26. Holiday

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Zuko frowns at the lights on Katara's Christmas dress. "I don't think that's safe at all," he says as she moves to straddle his lap with a grin, "you could get electrocuted. You could electrocute me. Why are you wearing lights anyway? It's not like you can go out unless you want to drag an extension cord with you."

Katara scowls and folds her arms over her chest, glaring. "I really like this dress," she starts, moving her arms to accentuate the shape of it. The dress is red and strapless. The bodice clings to her and the skirt flows out openly with twirling lines of lights around the hem and the waistline of the dress. Katara really likes the multi-colored Christmas lights, but Zuko doesn't.

"If you don't, then I'll just…take it off." Now she certainly has his attention. "But, you have to play a game with me."

He groans as she stands up and takes a few steps back. It takes her a few moments but she unzips the dress enough so that it'd fall down to the ground, if it weren't for the fact that she was holding it up. She turns around with her back to him, and leans over to search through the dresser behind her. Zuko can see the sliver of tan skin peeking between the zipper, and he can see the long, shapely curve of her thighs and what looks to be shiny, red fabric before she turns around again. She has a deck of cards in her hand. She flips the first card over on the top of the deck—a three of hearts. "Higher or lower?"

"What kind of game—"

"Higher or lower, Zuko."

"Higher."

She flips the card behind it. It's a ten of spades. She lets go of her dress and watches his face morph as it falls to the floor. He's grinning.

"Higher." A queen of diamonds. She kicks her heels off slowly, standing in only a black bra and panties with red, glittery trim.

"Lower." She clicks her tongue against her teeth—a king of diamonds. She pulls her dress back up to cover her body and he growls low in his throat. "Lower." A five of hearts and her dress is off again.

"Higher." A jack of clubs. She hesitates for a moment before she pulls her bra straps down and pulls the garment over her head. He watches, slightly mesmerized by her standing clad only in underwear, and slightly awed that he'd have never thought to pull her bra over her head.

"Lower." A two of clubs. He smirks in satisfaction as she hooks her fingers inside of the red trim, wiggling her hips tauntingly as she pulls the garment off of her body. She is still standing opposite of him, but now completely in the nude, and he stands up to move towards her. She manages to wrap her arms around his neck before he lifts her off of the ground, practically slamming her backwards onto the dresser. He kisses her firmly on the mouth before moving to kiss her neck; she can tell by his shifting that he's kicking his shoes off. He bends down to press his mouth against her navel. He swirls his tongue over her belly button and she laughs a little, squirming as she starts to feel aroused.

"Higher or lower?" His voice is mocking and she almost chides him, but his tongue is causing her to quiver.

"Higher," she breathes out, and he kisses his way up to her breasts. He leans back for a moment to cup them in his hands, kneading and massaging them, before moving to replace his palms with his mouth. He sucks gently, nipping at her sensitive skin and biting her lightly. He twists her nipples between her teeth and she moans quietly, her hand finding his hair. He presses his nose gently against her, nuzzling his face between her breasts before he moves to the other, lavishing it in similar attention. She tries not to arch her back too much, but she can't help it.

"Lower," she pleads, "lower, lower, lower." When he moves his lips down to her feet, she nearly kicks him in the face. "Higher, you idiot." He laughs and pulls her by her waist, careful to crouch as he leans between her legs. His warm breath on her thighs is enough to cause her to clench and start grinding her hips back and forth. "Oh Spirits, please," she whines, and he obliges with his tongue against her entrance and his fingers stroking her swiftly. She doesn't stop moving her hips, bucking them back and forth rapidly against his tongue and fingers.

She feels the insistent knot between her legs, begging to be released, and she grips his shoulders. "Please don't torture me like this," her voice is low and she's nearly begging, "Zuko, please. Please, I need you." She doesn't take any more time to ask as she yanks at his belt buckle and shoves his jeans as far down as she can reach. He helps her move them the rest of the way down and he can barely get his feet out of them before she slides off of the dresser and has his length in her hands, pressing the tip of him into her. When she sinks down over him, she throws her head back and arches her back so hard that she can't help but cry out, in pain and in pleasure. He groans and holds her hips as she moves against him, her legs wrapped around his waist until he backs them up to the chair he'd been sitting in. She moans, digging her nails into his shoulders and using her feet for leverage as she moves up and down in his lap. His hands touch her feverishly and it didn't take long for him, between her strip tease and her wet neediness to reach his climax, grunting and thrusting into her quickly. He was still for a few moments before he moves to continue, his hand sliding between them to touch her and aid in her own release. She moans loudly, gripping his wrist and pushing it closer to her body. Her fingernails start to draw blood against his shoulders and she pushes her body against his forcefully, catching him off guard for a moment before he pushes back to counter her weight. She follows with her own climax, limbs tensing and body releasing its final waves of pleasure over her before she leans forward, dropping her head against his shoulder.

They sit there against one another for a few minutes before she stands up slowly, heading to the bathroom to clean up. She pauses to grab her dress and on her way past him, he notices with a grin that her gait is shaky at best. He searches and finds his boxers, pulling them over himself before he gets up with a groan, ambling towards the bathroom where Katara is zipping up her Christmas dress again. He leans in the doorway.

"We should always play Christmas games like this," he grins. "After all, the dress is sort of growing on me."

* * *

**notes:** don't ask me why i made them play card sharks or why one would even play such a game on christmas, IT'S MY LIFE. i hope you like it because it's slightly AU and i had a different idea for it but i really needed to get this one out since i've been writing it and erasing it for three hours straight now. anyway, i hope you like it! again, i appreciate all your reviews and suggestions :)


	27. Similarity

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

Katara is a multi-faceted lover, Zuko comes to realize after a length of time. It's one of the many things that attracts him to her when it comes to their intimate relationship with one another. One of the downfalls of knowing her the way that he does, though, is that he can never turn it off. He always sees Katara, the Fire Lady, as his wife, the mother of his children, his best friend, and his lover. So it can be quite alarming to draw similarities between her behaviors in their daily life to much more sensual behaviors between the two of them.

He notices it first when she flips her hair over her shoulder and dons a haughty grin in one of their budget meetings. He instantly is reminded of her straddling him in their bed, flipping her hair over her bare shoulder and giving him a similar grin. It's a grin that tells Zuko that she is about to get the best of him and he has no idea what is coming. He can see her clearly and he can almost feel the smooth curvature of her skin under his hands as she presses her own palms against his chest.

Luckily, he can shake this image out of his head in time to see his wife sit back with a satisfied smirk, stacking her papers against the desk. He knows plenty of ways to give her the same satisfied smirk, but he says nothing.

He notices it again when she picks up their daughter. He feels some sort of strange thinking about his wife in that way when she's taking care of their child, but he can't help it. She kisses their daughter on her forehead and pulls away, watching attentively until the little girl smiles. Katara smiles back at her, and he feels guilty for thinking of her doing much more inappropriate things to him with her mouth. He doesn't even start, making a strained noise and turning on his heel.

She shoots an odd look at his retreating back, but doesn't ask him any questions about it later.

This time, he can barely contain himself. She's sparring in the courtyard, hand to hand with one of his personal trainers. The only reason she's there is because he always teases her about how inept she is at it, and she is determined to best him. Right now, she is pulling her own weight and within a matter of seconds, she sweeps the legs of his trainer and drops to her knees, restraining him. She puts her hands on his wrists and freezes the sweat around them. At least that's what she knows she's doing. What he sees is her straddling his trainer and holding his wrists against the bed, and there's no way he can interpret that with his head any other way than the way he remembers it. The way she straddles him with her head thrown back, eyes fluttering closed, fingernails digging into his skin, and moaning loudly. He doesn't even notice the jealous corner of his brain yelling about his wife being on top of another man because he's too busy comparing this situation to a similar one in their bedroom.

He is silent the whole way as they walk back to their chambers, despite Katara asking him what he thought and whether she had done something. When they arrive, she slams the door shut and folds her arms over her chest. "Zuko, I don't know what's wrong—" he cuts her off with a kiss, desperate to share these striking similarities with her.

* * *

**notes:** so, this is pretty awful. i am exhausted and fell behind a few days so i wanted to make it up to you. i will be returning to add onto this scene with the direction i wanted to go in, but i felt like it would be a huge injustice to write it when i am too tired to focus on details and the flow of it all.i wrote a clean version the other day and it's on tumblr, not here, because i switched it up on you last time. if you want to read that version in the meantime, you can find it on my tumblr at the url: **xavalos dot tumblr dot ****com slash post slash 38947481409**, sorry for the inconvenience, you guys! and i really am sorry for how short this is, the holidays are really kicking my ass.


	28. Atonement

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

'I've decided to make amends for everything I've ever done to hurt you,' is the only thing written inside of her card, and it confuses her. It is her third wedding anniversary with Zuko and as far as she can remember, he hasn't done anything to warrant such behavior. But when she walks into their bedroom, he's sitting on their bed with his head in his hands. He's also only clad in a towel and that distracts her more than anything else does. But he looks distraught, so she sits beside him and leans her head on his shoulder.

She starts to open her mouth to speak but before she can, he is exerting his aura of personal space on her, and she leans away from him as he starts to lean towards her. Finally, he's managed to press her back against the bed and he's hovering over her, his hair damp and falling into his eyes, while he stares at her with that slightly distraught look. "Are you all right?" She finally manages to ask and he leans down to kiss her gently on the lips.

"Do you remember the first time that we fought each other?" She can barely hear him when he speaks, but she nods dumbly. "I'm sorry." He peels away the fabric of her tunic and kisses her around her neck and down the length of her collarbone slowly. She shudders involuntarily as he speaks again, his voice whispering against her skin.

"Zuko, you don't have to—"

"And when I tied you to a tree and threatened you indirectly?" He pulls her tunic so slowly over her head that she barely notices that it's off until she feels his hands against her stomach. "I'm sorry for that too," he kisses her from the bottom of her bindings to her navel, "I was a brat. I still am a brat." She can't help but laugh, her stomach quaking underneath his intimate and arduous touch.

He rolls her pants down past her hips and over her knees until he can pull them completely off. While he does this, her eyes flicker to his towel briefly. She hasn't even thought about the fact that he's naked right underneath it and hasn't done anything about it. She is far too distracted by his apologies. "I'm sorry for every time I've ever fought you, no matter the outcome." He shows this particular need for reparation by unwinding her chest wraps and placing gentle kisses on her breasts. There's nothing explicitly sexual about it; he is patient and adoring, treating her with an unnecessary reverence. She doesn't protest; it's his gift after all.

"I…" He hesitates with his hands holding the two untied ends of her wraps. She lifts her hips to him, thinking that he's hesitated for that reason, but he stares down at the wraps sullenly. "Zuko," she calls and it seems to knock him out of his trance. "I'm sorry for…what I did to you in the catacombs. I was stupid…I _am_ stupid. I'm sorry most of all for that." He finally tugs the wraps away and voraciously places kisses between her thighs, over the thick curls of her hair, against the backs of her knees. He kisses every visible inch of skin from her waist down. She squirms and blushes slightly; not because she's aroused, but because she's extremely flattered by her husband in a way that she had never expected to be.

"I'm sorry that," he hesitates again, this time for longer. Katara watches him with concern before he dips down to kiss her on the lips gently. When he starts talking, he whispers and she can hear him only because he's so close. "I'm sorry that I stood in front of Azula's lightning for you." He pauses and she frowns deeply, tears in her eyes. "I'm not sorry for saving your life. I'm sorry that if I had died, that I'd have been the second person in your life to die in order to protect you."

It's the last straw. He is pushing himself inside of her slowly. Katara is sobbing, her arms flung around his neck and shaking against him as he moves inside of her. "I love you," she says fiercely, her hands fisted in his hair, "I love you so much, don't you _ever_ be sorry for that, _ever_." His face is pressed against her neck, her tears sliding between his cheek and her skin. He moves in and out of her slowly, intimately, but not sexually. She doesn't reach a physical climax as much as she does an emotional one, where her body freezes and he pulls out of her, and she buries her face into her pillows to soak up her tears.

Silence drifts between them and Zuko drops a hand on Katara's back to support her. Her shoulders shake a little every now and then, and he leans over to press a kiss against her shoulder blade whenever they start to shake again. After a few minutes, she lifts her head up. Her eyes are slightly rimmed and red; she rubs at them with the ridges of her palm and finally manages to dry the tears up a considerable amount.

"There's one more thing you haven't apologized for," she rolls over until she is flush against his side, her hand on his chest. It's slightly damp but he doesn't move away from her touch.

"What's that?" He quirks an eyebrow and turns his head so he can see her. She is studying him with a curious look, a faint smile etched on her lips. She leans closer to him.

"For taking so long to propose to me." He grins as she leans in to kiss him, a bright grin that betrays his previously distraught features. "But it's all right. I forgive you for it anyway." She tucks her head underneath his chin and wraps her arms around his waist for as far as she can reach.

"Happy anniversary."

* * *

**notes:** wow, i am so sorry that this is late because i finished it yesterday! it was even up on tumblr but i was really delusional so i guess i forgot to post it. sorry guys! this is kinda strange but again, i'm exhausted. i hope you like and understand the intimate zutara because it's my favorite :)


	29. Steam

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

He knows it's wrong the moment he sees her. He's the Fire Lord and he shouldn't be behaving like a petulant child, but the fact that she slinks into the haze of steam and only shrinks back into the vapor says that she isn't running, but watching. This is the Royal Spa, his spa, so he plans to put on a show.

It's wrong, but he's sure to take slow and measured movements as he stands from the basin. He shakes his head lightly so that his hair falls around his shoulders and moves out of the bath, careful to take route to find a towel. He wraps it around his waist carefully because _that_ is a little too far. Katara is his friend, after all. But she's still spying on him from where she thinks he can't see her, and for that, she has to pay.

He raises his hands and winds his hair over his fingers. It's still damp and he could dry it, but it would take the fun out of it and the steam hanging in the air would surely ruin it again. He twists it and leans down towards his discarded clothes to retrieve a pin. He sticks it in the center of the knot he's formed and it unravels slightly, but holds still well enough.

He leans over to pick up the rest of his clothes and pauses, a smirk on his face. He turns back to where he knows she's standing and says, "You can come out now." There is a tiny squeak and splutter from the corner before she rushes forward into the open room of the spa. She can't seem to form any words and Zuko laughs under his breath, walking towards her. He can barely see her through the steam of the room until they're standing about a foot apart. Katara blushes and stares intently at her feet.

"Well, I just wanted to bathe. I was sparring in the courtyard with Aang and I really, _really_ didn't know you were in here, and I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been watching you because that's rude, and oh Spirits, I'm just like a teenaged boy—"

It's wrong, but he decides he doesn't care.

He grasps her gently by the wrist and pulls her to his body, tilting his head down to kiss her. His lips are soft on hers and he can taste the salt of her sweat when he presses his tongue insistently against her lips. She moans, her hands against his chest as she opens her mouth to him. She steps away from him first, her eyes wide.

"This is wrong."

Zuko nods. "I know. I don't care."

That's all that needs to be said between them. He's backing her up through the steam with kisses, hungry and voracious as he pulls at her sash. He has his good eye flickering open to make sure he's not backing her into a basin and then stops when they reach one starting to fill with warm, soapy water. He steps into it and pulls her down into it with him, their mouths meeting again. He yanks at her wraps, almost burning them before she interrupts and removes them herself. The water is around their calves as she leans back, her back pressed against his chest. His hands cup her breasts and she wraps her hands around his wrists, tipping her head back.

He kneads her breasts gently, his fingers pinching her nipples until they stiffen and she groans. She pushes her hips back towards him and his hands move to her waist, his fingers reaching to touch her between her legs. She gasps, surprised at the warmth of his touch as he tentatively explores the smooth, tight skin there. She tries not to move too much but he strokes that sensitive nub and her hips almost start grinding of their own volition. She bites her lip but he keeps going, stroking her gently and probing one of his fingers at her entrance, teasing her. She rolls her hips in frustration, not minding that she's brushing up against the fluffy fabric of his towel. She grinds against his fingers and against his hips until the towel falls and she can feel his skin. She can feel the rapid warmth and the incessant poke of his member against her back and she grins before arching her back with a moan.

He slips his hands away from her and grabs her by her hips, turning her around so she's flush against him. She grabs the knot of his hair and pulls him down for a kiss, searching his mouth frantically with her tongue as he presses her back against the basin. The water is almost full in the tub and he leans to turn the tap off before he has her back against the basin. She's never done anything like this in the water and she's sure that he hasn't either, but he uses his hands to pry her thighs wide apart, before pressing himself up against her and sliding his length inside of her. Her fingernails dig into his shoulders and he hooks his arm underneath her leg, pulling it up to the crook of his elbow.

She releases one of her hands from his shoulders to grab the basin behind her, hesitating because of the water sloshing over the sides as he drives into her. She wraps her other leg around his waist and tries not to arch her back, despite desperately wanting to. Instead, she pushes her body as close to his as she can get, especially when he moves his hand between her legs to play with the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. She clenches her thighs together and moans loudly, blushing immediately after she hears it echo through the spa. He only laughs at her, shifting to place a kiss on her lips before changing focus, his forehead still pressed against hers. She presses back, her body moving even faster, water surging around her and splashing behind her. Zuko's body is getting hotter and hotter and she's sure that soon enough, there will be enough steam in the spa to suffocate the both of them, but she doesn't care as she throws her head back and nearly gives herself a concussion as her climax comes.

He doesn't stop, letting her clench and tighten around him as she finishes coming down from the height of her arousal, and she moans again as he keeps moving against her. It only takes a few moments until he slams into her with a groan and then pulls away suddenly, turning his body away as he runs his hands over himself rapidly. She watches his body jerk suddenly, seizing up, before his shoulders slump in relaxation.

This time, she moves forward with that devious part of her mind, pressing herself against his back and wrapping her arms around his waist. She reaches up to run her fingers over his chest and is surprised when he catches them with his own. She lays her cheek against his back, closing her eyes for a moment.

It's wrong, but he smiles anyway.

* * *

**notes:** so, i wrote a bunch of steam drabbles for today because this is my favorite prompt for all of zutara month (because steam, duh!) and there is one that gives a sort of precedence to this particular one. you can find it on my tumblr at the url: **xavalos dot tumblr dot ****com slash post slash 39153657754 **and there are a few others that you can find under the label of steam, but posting links in the a/n is really irking me so hopefully you can find them easily enough.


	30. Gravity

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

"Sometimes, it's just like, he's two different people," Katara blushes and scoots closer to Suki. She has been craving someone to have girl talk with and after swearing she wouldn't say any disgusting things about her brother, Suki became the prime candidate. Granted, the Kyoshi Warrior was more curious about the Fire Lord than the actual state of their romance, she still didn't need to hear anything about her brother that would take years to erase from her mind.

"One minute, he's just _really_ into it, so much that he just moves so slowly…"

She can barely continue stringing words together as she thinks about it. It's vivid in her head, the way he watches her with intensity brimming behind his golden eyes. He undresses her with his eyes first until he can physically undress her and it's slow, torturous, and slightly painstaking. But he kisses her like he's trying to submerge his lips completely into her body, waiting for his kisses to be patiently absorbed into her. His lips trail pathways along her body, connections of muscle and skin and places that would never appeal to her sensual side except for the fact that his lips are there, showering them in attention. When they are both completely undressed, he is zealous in his pursuits; he stretches her wrists above her head and kisses his way down from there. He pushes her thighs apart and pours his attention there.

"And I can't even say outloud…"

She flushes deeply when Suki laughs at her as she snaps her thighs together. Just thinking of it is sending the wrong signals through her body when she isn't in his company. He's always sure to touch her with his mouth when he's in one of these intense moods; she never questions it because the feeling of his hot, wet mouth over her renders her incoherent. His tongue always laps against her, like he is drinking in his fill of her, and she always answers him with loud moans of appreciation. He always tells her after the fact that he likes it when she rolls her hips; she finds that he likes the friction between their bodies. Somehow, it doesn't surprise her. When he pulls his mouth away and penetrates her, she is always torn between wanting his mouth back and being eagerly ready for him inside of her.

"You know," Suki starts, "I don't mean anything by it, but looking at Zuko? That doesn't really surprise me." The two of them burst out into laughter at the thought of the intense, and brooding firebender.

"But," she adds, "there's something oddly comforting about it. It's just not sexual. I mean, after I lay my head on his chest, he just winds his fingers through my hair and just lets me lay there. He doesn't really do anything, I mean. He kind of rubs circles in my back and he'll keep his hands warm for me until I fall asleep. But he'll let me just lay there, holding him down and trapping him underneath me. And when I wake up, he's _still_ there. He doesn't move me or try to move himself. It's nice."

"But then there are other times," she covers her face with her hands, "he _really_ acts like everything is on fire."

It doesn't take much to recount those times where he lifts her off of the ground and carries her to the bed, his teeth and lips gnawing and leaving marks along her neck and her collarbone. He is insistent and impatient with her clothes; sometimes he leaves them on and finds a way around them. But most of the time, he yanks them off and teases her purposefully; he bites and licks his way from her breasts down to her navel and against her thighs until he's between her thighs. His mouth is there and his tongue is firm, pressing as deep inside of her as he can get, and his fingers aide him until she arches her back and can barely stand it.

"It's really, really, _really _good," she grins.

He pumps his fingers in and out of her in steady rhythm, unrelenting as he presses a finger to the stiff, sensitive tip of her nerves that causes her to cry out. There is no relief when he replaces his fingers and mouth with his erection, because he drives into her with a demanding stroke. Her entire body quakes when he starts with an incessant pattern, and she doesn't do much other than let him keep going, wave after wave of passion rolling over her and tiring her out until she has nothing left to cry out and her body has nothing left to give.

"And even then, he just sort of…empties everything out. He'll just keep going until there's nothing left, and then he'll lay on me this time. Not all obnoxious and heavy, like he's trying to annoy me. But just…like he's trying to keep me grounded…keep me still. So I don't float away after all of it. That's nice, too." She shrugs her shoulders.

Suki laughs a little and shakes her head. "You're lucky. He lets you anchor him the same way he anchors you." She nods with a faint smile. It's not so much about her sinking to the bottom the way it implies, but more about being rooted the way an anchor roots a ship.

* * *

**notes:** i did the same thing i did for steam (which is, to say, i wrote a few tiny gravity drabbles and posted them on tumblr) so if you want, you can see them there. i'm so, so sorry this took so long! i was partially blocked and my internet really was trying to be against me on this. i also really like the idea of her feeling either like she's going to sink into the ground or float away after it's all said and done, so i hope i conveyed it well.


	31. Eve

**a midnight marathon**, a **prompted** drabble compilation  
**warning:** use of coarse language, sexual situations, and adult themes

"I have an idea of how we can fix this."

Zuko has his back to the door of the guest room, determined to feign sleep for as long as it takes until his girlfriend goes away. He knows it's petty, but their argument frustrated him until he was the one storming out and seeking refuge in the spare bedroom.

It's silent for a few moments and he relaxes, until a torch flickers brightly. He sits up, pivoting towards the door. "What are you— "

His annoyance dies in the back of his throat as he sees her. She's standing there with a grin on her face, her hands on her hips. She's wearing one of his crimson and gold robes, tied loosely around her waist. He's always liked the way that she looks in his clothes and this robe is no different. But it doesn't matter that she's wearing his robe.

What matters is that she's _only_ wearing his robe.

His eyes follow the sharp curves of her collarbone down her chest where the material comes together just barely to cover her chest and then draws together around her hips. He can see that her stance seems aggressive, but she's only standing that way because the silk bunches at her waist and he feels his mouth fall open at how bare she is. Her legs are firmly grounded against the floor and she is a vision of sexual prowess. He completely forgets why he's upset with her and she can see it in his face; she saunters slowly over to the bed and leans over him, kissing him on the nose gently.

"Do you wanna hear my idea?" She breathes out, crawling onto the bed and moving away from him. She sits, her thighs pressed together, resting against the heels of her feet with a slight arch in her back. He knows she's doing it on purpose but he really doesn't care anymore.

"Sure," he nods his head and she smiles slowly, sliding forward with her hands on either side of his body and her nose pressed to his.

"We can spend it," she nuzzles her nose against his, "like this," she kisses him on the mouth, "together," she moves her lips to his neck, "in bed." She wraps her arms around his neck loosely, kneeling between his legs. She watches him for a moment and he doesn't care that she probably is enjoying his reactions. He pulls her flush against him and he can feel every curve of her, from the swell of her breasts, the knot of his robe and the expanse of her stomach, her thighs and hips against his own.

She moves her hips against his in an unheard rhythm and he groans, dropping his head against her shoulder. She continues, waiting for him to release his grip from around her waist so she can pull back from him and rid him of his singular article of clothing. She smirks at him proudly when she sees the result of her grinding against him and rises up on her knees, using her hands to guide him between her legs. She settles over him slowly, but he moans and pushes his hips up into her and she moans with him.

His hands slide across her thighs and up to her bare waist underneath his robe, hesitating to untie it as she glides her hips back and forth over him, her hands wrapped around his forearms to give her leverage as she pushes back onto him. The sight of her straddling him in his robe entices him too much to do anything about it except sit up and throw her slightly off balance, grinning down at her as her back hits the bed. She uncurls her legs from underneath her and pulls her knees up, his hand wrapping around her thigh and pulling her against him.

"This," she hisses slightly, her head angled backwards slightly, "was a really, _really_—" A moan cuts through her sentence as he slams into her suddenly, her fists gripping the sheets. "Zuko," she grounds his name out between the noises she's making, her hands releasing the sheets and roaming over her chest. He pulls out of her and she starts to protest until she feels him nudging her; she sits up towards him, moving onto her knees so she can kiss him on the lips. He grins against her lips and then moves her onto her hands and knees.

He runs a hand slowly up her back and she shivers as he enters her again, slowly at first. She looks back at him and he's hit with another jaw dropping moment of her hazy blue eyes, parted lips, and long brown hair clinging to her forehead in some places and hanging down her back. She swirls her hips in encouragement and he keeps rubbing her back, falling into a steadily rapid rhythm where they both start to cry out against each other. He reaches his climax first, pushing into her and gripping her hips firmly in his hands before his body relaxes and he pulls out of her, sinking back onto the heels of his feet.

It takes her a moment as she pulls her fingers through her hair and reties his robe, but she joins him as he settles into the bed on his back. She props her chin against her hand on his chest and grins. "So, are you still mad at me?"

His brow furrows and he has half a mind to be angry anyway, but he can't. "No, I'm not mad anymore." She smiles and moves to kiss him quickly on the lips. "Is that why you did this? So I wouldn't be mad anymore?"

She shook her head lightly and sits up a little. "You're leaving in the morning for two weeks."

He seems to think over her words before he rolls her over, hovering on top of her. "We should probably make up for lost time, then."

* * *

**notes:** so i can't believe this is over! really, really over. for those of you who mark a new calendar year, happy new year! i am so ecstatic that i got to celebrate the last month of the year writing zutara. it was really a challenge and it consumed a lot of my time, but it was so worth it! i have so many people i'd like to thank, and i'll go ahead and try to remember you all now.

**Kimberly T**, for leaving multiple amusing reviews on each chapter! i appreciated and read every single one with a laugh, and i loved how you highlighted some of the things that i wrote and didn't expect to attract much attention, like Toph throwing fruit (something i left in during every rewrite of that entry) and the focus on Katara's offender in the 'prejudice' chapter. **Sakarya**, for daily reviews and leaving opinions and engaging with me! it's really important for me, when i get feedback, to know when i've done something that was appreciated and something that wasn't, so i'm grateful that you took the time throughout so many chapters! **J Metropolis** for all the same reasons, taking the time to tell me exactly what elements you liked so i could make sure to appeal to them every now and then! **LivinJgrl123 **for requesting Sokka and resulting in me writing one of my favorite scenes out of this entire saga, not to mention the feedback between those chapters. **Inwen **for the tumblr follow and semi-lurking on this story! **Separate** **Entity **for always being in my inbox, **Densharr **for the Iroh suggestion, **Sweet** **Mineral **and **Sakarya** again for discussing my racial confusion (because i really have always wanted to know!), and a special thank you to **writtenwordz** who was with me through the entirety of the month, listening to me gripe and whine and complain about not knowing what to write, for encouraging and helping me when i got stuck with things, and for supporting me!

and a huge, giant thank you to **everyone** who took the time to review, guest or otherwise! i got a lot of interesting suggestions for ways to try out smut, and i really want to do them all so once i get that together (including the suggestions for bdsm and ot3s) they'll hopefully be here! i really am humbled and appreciative of everyone who took the time to even drop a single word into my review box because this is my first participation in any of the zutara festivities and i enjoyed writing it as much as i hope you enjoyed reading it.

finally, i've written a small story encompassing all of the prompts for zutara month. it's called **you would be in love** and you can find it published here, under my stories. happy zutara month to all of you who followed!


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